


How Many Chances (Before I Get It Right)?

by HookedonCS



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-26
Updated: 2015-09-29
Packaged: 2018-03-09 02:37:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 24
Words: 113,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3233114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HookedonCS/pseuds/HookedonCS
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Emma Swan is broken by love- or the lack of it. Failed relationship after failed relationship has left her jaded, with no one to blame but herself. A new move into a new place with her teenage son brings her face to face with Killian Jones. He aims to prove that her only problem is that she hadn’t met him yet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve had this story in my head for a while. I think that it will be on the angsty side with a lot of hurt.

“I don’t want you to go, Daddy.”

Emma Cassidy- Cassidy, hm- folded her arm across her chest as she leaned against the wall outside of her four-year-old son’s bedroom. Hearing Henry’s small sleepy voice as he pleaded with his dad broke Emma’s heart. But there was nothing that she could do about it.

He was too young to understand that his dad was leaving and wouldn’t be back to see him in tomorrow. He wouldn’t be there to pick him up from preschool and have that special time when it was just the two of them before she made it home from work. And it would be a long time- too long of a time for a child his age- before he was able to travel across country and even see him again.

Henry wouldn’t understand what divorce was or why it was. The only thing that he would understand was that it meant separation from the people he loved. And that wasn’t easy for him.

So even though she knew he had to be tuckered out by The Amazing Henry Day that was all about granting every single wish and fulfilling every single dream he had in the span of an evening, she also knew that he was in no rush to see it end. He was in no rush to be rid of his father.

“I know, Henry.”

Emma could hear the deep soothing rumblings from her now ex-husband, Neal, as he tried to be as gentle as possible.

“I don’t want to have to go either.”

“Then stay!”

Emma heard the springs of the bed, indicating that the tired kid had jumped up. It was with hesitation that she turned then, sneaking a peek inside the room so that she could only check to make sure…

“Henry.”

He was in Neal’s arms, only the mop of brown hair and arms that were wrapped tightly around Neal was visible. Four years old.

Emma swallowed the lump that was stuck in her throat, holding back from any other emotion from rearing its head. She listened quietly while Neal tried to persuade their small son to lie back down in bed. She listened as he tried to explain to him that everything was going to be just fine. And she listened the Henry’s whimpers as he shook his head at Neal’s words.

There was a part of her that wanted to go into that bedroom and take Henry into her own arms. She wanted to be the one to assure him that, over time, everything was going to be okay and that he didn’t have to cry over the decisions that the adults in his life had made.

But she didn’t go into that room. Neal would be out of Henry’s life for at least a few months while he got settled. Tallahassee was nearly a full day’s drive by car from Boston, and only five by plane. That’s when cost came into play, and so many other details. So, until he got settled…

Emma leaned back against the wall, taking in a deep breath and holding it.

When she’d said yes to his proposal at the age of eighteen, it never crossed her mind that it would end in divorce six years later. She hadn’t thought it would be all rainbows and happiness, but what she did believe at that time was that having a successful marriage and family were things that they both wanted to work hard at achieving.

And they had been achieving. Until life… separated them. When paths diverged and they were no longer on the same path that they’d began, and no longer on a path together.

So now, with a son who was taking the split the way a four-year-old would take a split, she was a divorced woman who was trying to do right. She was a woman who had to figure out how to balance this life and forget the other one.  
The voices inside the room became more hush and quiet. It seemed as if Neal had finally exuded the magical touch that was needed, quieting Henry down and getting him back into bed.

It wasn’t until she heard the movements again, the squeaking of the bed while losing the weight of Neal.

Emma waited there, her body flushed against the wall and her eyes closed.

It wasn’t the divorce that was draining her. That had been a mutual decision. It wasn’t the fear of no longer having the security that the two of them had created for not only them, but for Henry as well. No, it wasn’t those things.

It was the fact that she had failed in the one thing that she had wanted most out of life. She had failed in making a lifelong partnership with the one man who she could love for a lifetime. And she had failed hugely.

Emma watched as Neal moved into the hallway, her eyes trained solely on him. She pictured Henry with that same look of sadness that he carried. His head was bowed as he walked passed her.

“Hey.”

And he probably hadn’t even noticed her until she had said that.

It was then that his head popped up. He stood in front of her, and they each took in the other’s reaction to the night.

“How did he do?” Emma whispered.

The raise of his eyebrows and the puckering of him mouth wasn’t a good enough answer.

“He’ll be okay,” she assured him.

She assured him. Because she had to. Because she knew that in time Henry would be okay. Even if the adjustment period would be longer than this night here.

“He’s asleep now,” Neal whispered in answer. His eyes slid back towards the bedroom that he had just come out of. “I don’t know, Emma. I don’t know if this is the right thing to do or not.”

She knew he didn’t mean them. Because that was over and done with a long time ago.

She knew what he did mean though. And Neal’s wariness only brought another sadness to the surface for her.

“You’re doing the right thing, Neal,” she told him, trying to keep from rolling her eyes. It shouldn’t be her place to make him feel better about the decision to move more than thirteen hundred miles from his son. It wasn’t her place to make him feel innocently about leaving her to be the single parent to their child. But she did it.

“Children are resilient,” she continued softly, her gaze falling to the floor in front of her. “He’ll get used to the arrangement. And when you come back to get him this summer, he’ll be ecstatic to have you for all that time.”

Emma looked back at him then. She saw that he was trying to be what he was supposed to be: strong and sure and confident in their decisions. It didn’t make this any easier.

“Listen, Emma.”

He was going to apologize. She absolutely hated when he tried to apologize for this.

“Please.” She huffed out a small laugh and shook her head. “Please don’t do it.”

“I’m leaving, Emma,” he reminded her. And his eyes begged for hers to meet his. “This is real.”

“It’s been real for months now, Neal,” she reminded him, feeling the need to go tit for tat.

He paused, just staring at her as if there was a need for recognition. As if she had been the singular one to change. When it had been the both of them. Not just her.

“I don’t want to leave on bad terms.”

“I don’t want you to leave on bad terms either, so why are you trying to begin an argument with me?”

“I’m not trying.”

Maybe it was just her emotions. Maybe it was the totality of the whole situation that was trying to make her blood boil. Because it wasn’t him. He wasn’t attacking. So she needed to get a grip on things.

Emma took in another deep and steadying breath.

“You’re leaving,” she finally said softly. “You have a plane to catch in a couple of hours. And the last time we see each other for at least a couple of months should end as civilly as it began.”

When she made herself look at him again, he was still staring just as intently.

“I know you don’t want me to say it, Emma.”

He knew it, but apparently it didn’t matter to him.

“I’m sorry that this didn’t work out.”

At least it was sincere. And Emma knew instinctively that it was, because she was equally sorry that her six-year marriage had ended while leaving her a divorcee at the ripe age of twenty-four.

Her eyes squinted on his, wanting to hold his gaze firmly.

“I’m happy that we got out before hating each other and effecting Henry because of it.”

Neal was silent for a moment. He watched her intently, taking in her words and her body language.

She had said it because it was true. She had said it because she could. In reality, things could have been a lot worse than an amicable divorce that tore their family miles apart.

Neal was slow to nod.

“Okay, Emma,” he murmured. “I’m going to head out of here.”

She felt the need to hug herself. What did that mean, when her ex-husband stood right in front of her, but she only wanted the comfort that she herself could give her? What it didn’t mean was that her loneliness that seeped inside her was any better.

“Let us know when you get there safely,” she whispered. The itch was growing stronger. So maybe he should leave now.

Neal nodded one more time. “Goodbye, Emma.”

It was swift and clean after that. He turned around, heading down the hallway. Heading away from everything that had been them.

They had decided on the divorce together nearly a year ago. They had been apart for only half of that time. Emma knew that his opportunity to move up the ladder in his career had was leading him back to Florida. And the fact that he had family there had only sealed the deal for him.

The custody agreement had been as easy to figure out as anything else. Henry would go with Neal during the summer months. That way he could be in school when the time came with her. Simple. Cut and dry.

So it wasn’t that. It wasn’t necessarily Neal that had her heart breaking in that moment as she pressed herself once again to the wall.

She heard the door. She heard the way the hinges creaked in protest (and that wasn’t a sign). She heard as the door click closed from somewhere far away from her.

And she felt the instantaneous strain of her heart. And she knew where it had come from.

Emma hadn’t cried throughout the last year. Not over the loss of Neal or the loss of her marriage. It wasn’t… that. No…

She felt that pain and that sadness traveling throughout her, because…

She had failed at the one thing in her life that had meant the most to her. She had failed at the one thing that made her whole.

She was now a twenty-four-year-old divorcee. She was now alone.

A career couldn’t make up for the loneliness in her heart. Friendships could only console parts of her. Even Henry’s love couldn’t fill the void.

Emma had failed at finding love and partnership. She had failed in life. And nothing was going to change that fact.


	2. Chapter 1

Nine years later…

The sound of the movers coming from outside and into the apartment building made him reminiscent and on the verge of missing the elderly couple that used to occupy the apartment next to him. When the only two apartments on the ground floor of the building were occupied by the couple and himself, there had been nothing but quiet. And sometimes there was even a fresh batch cookies in it for him. (Mrs. Romano could be a sweetheart that way.)

Killian Jones was slow to rise from his bed, fingers running roughly through his hair. The window above his head was tempting- a peek maybe at what was going on? He just didn’t know if he was ready to see the damage- the trucks and men who had disturbed him at so early in the morning. Who moved into a home bright and early on a Sunday morning anyway? He didn’t think he was ready to find out just quite yet.

It was the ringing of his doorbell that changed his mind. Or changed his mind for him…

What if it was his new neighbor? Is it possible that you could move your car up some so that we can get this ridiculously large couch from out here to in there? Or the dreaded overreaction to the motorcycle that they would spot in the backyard as they made their way around. That would just be his luck…

But, Killian thought with a quick smile to himself, it was more likely that it was Liam outside his door and waiting for him. And if that was the case, then maybe it wasn’t so ungodly early as he’d suggested. Maybe.

He frowned at that thought, reaching down and feeling the floor beside him for the phone he knew he’d left there. When his fingers grasped hold to it, he rolled the rest of the way out of the bed with only a slight huff.

The window was too tempting, hiding the secrets of what was going on outside. He drew the blinds up slowly, preparing himself for what was to come. And the sight made him pause. Just one of those mid-size rental moving vans. No movers to be seen. And yet, by the looks of it, they were nowhere near through with the load.

Killian pushed himself against the window, furthering the view of his gaze. It didn’t tell him much about the new neighbors. But it did confirm his thoughts.

He was only a little surprised to see the minivan parked out on the street. The bump wasn’t even here yet, and his brother and sister-in-law had already traded in one car for the apparently convenient family vehicle.

It was like fate when the doorbell rang again. It made the small smile on his face grow into a grin. Didn’t Liam know he was leaving himself wide open for teasing from his younger brother?

Killian glanced down at his phone as he turned around. There were no missed calls, and the none of the three text messages were from Liam.

One of those messages had been from an unsaved number, but the pic of the buxom brunette conjured up memories that he wouldn’t soon be forgetting. He took a mental note to get back to that one…

His steps were quick now- his feet cold against the bare floor- as he moved out of the bedroom and towards the living room. His brother wasn’t usually the impatient type, so he figured he must have been musing for a while before getting off of his butt.

He couldn’t stop thinking about the van that sat outside the apartment house. Maybe Ruby and the bump were with him. It really was the only viable excuse for Liam to be driving around in the family van.

The closer Killian got to the front of the apartment, the more he could make out the steps of movers and new tenants of the apartment. He only hoped that this wasn’t a prelude to what was to come.

Unlike the sole apartment that was upstairs, the apartment across from his was an exact replica of this one. Two bedrooms, one bath. It made him curious as to who was moving in and how many. Was it another elder couple? Maybe a bachelor like himself? That would have been ideal. It could even be a family of sorts. And the upstairs apartment already housed a couple. No need to be the odd man out again.

Killian smiled to himself again. He remembered how he’d suggested the apartment to Liam and Ruby. It would have been a dream come true to have his family that close to him.

But, alas…

Reaching the door, he was quick to unlock it and pull it open, ready to greet his big brother.

It was the look on his face- inquiry and maybe even a bit of expectation mixed with annoyance. And maybe that was a look that he wouldn’t want to see every day. Things did work out the way they did for a reason…

“Good morning, brother.” It was cheerful and happy. And it was genuine. It was always genuine between the two of them.

“Good morning.”

“Ah…” Killian placed a hand to his chest, stopping him in his tracks as he made a step to come inside. “I saw the van.”

At first curious, the look on Liam’s face turned knowingly amused.

“Ruby’s not with me,” he answered before he had a chance to ask.

“Oh, I guess I was assuming because…” Killian left it open-ended for his brother, only offering a mere shrug.

Liam took a step back himself and glanced down the hall. “It seems like you’re getting new neighbors today.”

Liam’s step back made it possible for Killian to get a better look into the hall.

“Have you met them yet?”

Killian’s eyes fell over to the doorway of the other apartment. It was wide open, hinting at the activity inside. He could see boxes littering the entranceway of the brightly lit apartment. He could hear those heavy steps clearly now.

“Haven’t met them.”

“Are you trying to right now?”

Liam’s question made Killian turn. The amusement was still easily read there.

“Not particularly, no. Why?”

A strong hand came up to reach his shoulder, pushing him to one side of the doorway.

“Then you can let me in, Killian.”

Of course. He bit down on his lip as he let Liam pass by him.

“By all means, go ahead,” he murmured.

He was ready to follow him inside, but his gaze fell back over to the other apartment.

He watched as the two moving men walked through the door and headed back down the hall. Moving men, certainly, as signaled by the uniformed jumpsuits.

It only made him curious, as he offered a returned nod of acknowledgment to both men.

All in due time, Killian supposed. He stepped back into the apartment-

He thought he caught a glimpse of someone from the other side of the hall. Just a whisper of figure, he was sure, as he angled his head to get a better…

In that same second, she came into view, taking his breath away and knocking him softly back against the doorframe along with her.

Blonde hair- how could that not be the first thing to have caught his eye? It spilled down and over her shoulders in soft curls. But it was her eyes that grabbed and squeezed at him. It was something haunting in those eyes. That was before they locked warily on his own and held for all of a second. And that was it. She had grabbed at the door, and, essentially closed it in his face.

What had it been? Two seconds? Maybe three?

Not even a curtesy nod. And definitely not even a quick hello. Killian would have been more offended if he’d had the time to think about it. But he didn’t. Because he was mentally filing away every bit of her that he could. Which, in truth, wasn’t much.

The need to draw her- to capture the bits and pieces of her and make her complete- clawed at his mind in a way that made it inescapable.

He wanted to know what color were her eyes. She had been too far away to be able to make that judgment call. So he wondered… Were they blue? A blonde-haired blue-eyed beautiful that had looked at him with a hint of guard. Or maybe brown, because underneath that veil that said no room for strangers, there was really a softness about her that only called from brown eyes,

Killian wanted to know was she really a jeans and T-shirt kind of a woman. The heel on those boots convinced him otherwise. It told him that there was definitely more there underneath.

Underneath?

Did his mind want to go there already about him new neighbor?

His new neighbor. Ah, she was here to stay! She would be here for him to admire and to charm… So there was plenty of time to think about what was underneath. Plenty of time to get it just right so that he could…

“What are you doing out there?”

It was Liam’s voice calling to him that had finally broken the spell that she had put on him- in the space of no more than three seconds and, decidedly intentionally, no words.

Killian slipped back inside the apartment, albeit reluctantly as he glanced across the hall, closing the door behind him.

“I was… catching a glimpse at the new neighbor.” His voice had gone thick, he noticed. Hm…

“The new neighbor?”

Killian looked up at Liam who was now watching him. He wanted to ignore the slight grin that was on his face, because he knew.

“So you found out that it’s a woman then?”

His eyes narrowed on his big brother. “Did you see her?”

“No,” Liam admitted. And that grin grew. “What I see is you though.”

Killian also wanted to ignore that comment and the laugh that accompanied it. So it was obvious by the looks of him that the neighbor had been female.

Two bedrooms…

Damn. He hadn’t had time to look for a ring. There was still a possibility that she wasn’t moving in by herself. And that would be a pity.

“Don’t you have enough women to occupy your time without having to go after the one who lives across the hall from you?” Liam asked him, a hint of teasing in his voice.

“Perhaps it’s the journalist in me.” Killian offered.

“How is that, brother?” He was still teasing. “Maybe you want to know what makes her tick.”

“She…” Killian watched as Liam paused at the table, his eyes catching something. “She closed her door on me.”

Liam was quick to look back at him then. “Ah, she wounded your pride a bit, is that it?”

Was it his pride? He didn’t know if it was that, but…

“This is new.”

Killian watched as Liam picked up the sketchbook. He had changed the subject, and he wasn’t sure if he was quite ready to let go just yet.

“Yeah, it’s something I’m working on.”

But the sketch wasn’t important. Not when…

“It looks good.”

“You know what really looks good?” Killian murmured. His head turned, and the rest of him followed.

He heard the door again, signaling that the movers had made their way back inside again. There was a need to know more. And maybe that was the journalistic instinct in him.

Or maybe it was the simple fact that she hadn’t fell for the rather dashing tousled look of his that came along with just hopping out of bed. That was an oddity unto itself. There had been time for him to notice if she had noticed. If he had time to notice and appreciate her beautiful she would have had time to notice something about him…

Or maybe it had something to do with the fact that she hadn’t even given him the chance to get a proper hello out before she practically shut him out- figuratively as well as literally. Hm…

She was just a few walls away, the beautiful blonde. He had a thing with detail, but she had been so fleeting that it had not been enough. Not enough for him.

“The neighbor who most likely just signed a one-year lease that binds her to the apartment across from you for at least a year?” Liam asked in answer.

Killian let himself smile at that. He turned back around then, hoping that his brother was just as amused.

Liam was still fixed on the sketchpad for a moment before he placed it back down.

“You’re right,” Killian finally agreed. Even though, it was soft. Wistful.

She wasn’t going anywhere, his mysterious and beautiful neighbor.

“And yet you look positively besotted at the mere glance at her.”

Killian moved then, his eyes drawn to the sketchbook that Liam had put down. That particular one was almost filled. But there was enough room for her.

“Don’t judge when you are married with a kid on the way,” he warned him. “How do you expect me to find the love of my life if I’m not out searching for her?”

He ignored the genuine laughter from Liam and the way he grabbed at his arm. Because they both knew…

“Now that would really be something.” Liam’s arm tightened, but he turned quiet.

Killian looked from the book up to see what had caused the pause from his brother. And there was a sobering look.

“I’m waiting for the day, Killian.” His eyebrows lifted and his hold on his arm grew. “I’m waiting for this family to regenerate itself. It would be nice. It would be good for… us.”

Killian wanted to ignore that as well.

Did his brother worry about him? Because he didn’t have to. He liked the way their family was about to be double of what it had been years ago. When it had only been the two of them. And now they had Ruby. And soon that bump would be more than just a bump. And two would be four. So…

Killian clapped his hand over Liam’s.

“Well you never know,” he told him lightly. “She could be the one.”


	3. chapter 2

She wouldn’t feel shallow for using her front-facing camera to check the way she looked. There was no point in her feeling any type of way about it. The important thing was that she looked fine when Henry made it off the plane and made it into her view. And- she pushed back an errant curl- she looked fine. Now, for the smile…

Emma practiced that smile, making it as genuine as possible. Which was somewhat true…

It had been a long summer. Now it was over. Now it was time to get back to what normal looked like as a single mother to a newly crowned teenage son. And that, as she checked one last time, was something she was looking forward to.

She slipped the phone back into her pocket, elbow bumping into the woman beside her. The crowd was growing as they all waited for the newly landed plane to let its passengers into the airport, and she offered an apologetic wave. The crowding wasn’t the worst thing about this place, but she was beyond ready for that part to be over.

It was probably more to do with anxiousness. An anxiety to have her son back and to start this new journey- this fresh start. Henry hadn’t been there for the move last week. It would be exciting for him to get settled. New home. New school.

There was a pit of something forming in Emma’s stomach at that thought- at that realization. It hadn’t been her who had been able to offer him stability. Well… Not the way that Neal had been able to do.

Did Henry ever regret the fact that he could count the number of homes- be it rental house or apartment- on more than one hand since it had been just the two of them? Nine years and more than five different homes. A complete opposite of his experience when he spent his summers in Tallahassee with his dad. And his stepmom. And his stepsister. Not to be forgotten was the half-brother that had come from the union. (Whatever had taken root in her stomach was growing, leaving her uneasy.)

Neal’s successes in life didn’t mean that she had failed. It only made her worth of success all the more… insignificant. Henry had everything when he was away. A good family just sat on top of it all. Then he came home to her. Where it was just the two of them. And…

That was it. Nothing more to say.

Damn! She had just checked her face. And now…

Why was it taking forever? All she wanted to do was go home and introduce Henry to his new home. A home that she was sure that would be semi-permanent for a good amount of time. When he returned from his summer months with his dad, he would come back to the same place. He wouldn’t need to adjust to changes that she had made while he was gone.

Smile. Big smile! Happy. Happy thoughts! Not these stomach churning thoughts that would be sure to drag her down.

The passengers were filing out now. So any second she would see him. That meant smiles. For him.

How many times had she been to this airport? Too many to count. Either dropping off her son and putting him in the care of the flight attendants, or picking up her son from a long summer away. Yes, too many to count…

He’d probably put on like six inches. From the pictures he’d sent and the ones she seen on his social media sites, Emma realized that she had missed a lot. Not too much. He deserved to have his summer time with his dad and his new family. So she tried not to feel at all lonely about those months he was away. Hey, she needed time for herself as well, right?

How did she fill those hours? With work mostly. Being a visual merchandiser at one of the largest fashion stores in the city had kept her pretty busy. At least it gave her a routine. What was better than an eight to four job when routine was one of the things that kept her stable and going?

Routine gave her stability. Hard work left her mind focused. It left her with no time to dwell on the fact that it was all she had. And the only significant thing in her life besides Henry.

Walsh.

Why? Not now. That had been years ago and she was over it.

There! And she felt the way her lips tried to not break into a huge smile, her mouth tightening as she watched Henry.

God! Her son was a teenager! At thirty-three, she had a thirteen year old son. And he looked every bit of those years.

He looked like his father. He took after the Cassidy’s in so many ways that sometimes it hurt. There was so little of her in that regard.

“Henry!” He was close now, only some yards away.

Emma knew instantly when he had found her. His eyes had grown bright and the smile on his face was huge.

“Henry!”

He had grown…

He finally noticed her, his eyes falling on her and a huge grin splitting his face.

Emma would have guessed that a couple of inches actually did sneak up on him. He had to be right at five feet. If not, it would happen in a blink of an eye. Just as this growth spurt had done.

“Mom!”

Yards became feet until they were both wrapped in each other’s arms. And…

In that moment, it was enough. Holding Henry in her arms, hugging him tight to her, was enough to warm her completely through.

“I missed you, kid.”

Emma was happy that he let her hold him for as long as he did. Maybe he missed her just as much,

“I missed you, too, Mom.” Henry pulled back then. The grin on his face was easy. And it was true that he had put on a couple of inches. Just how would he measure up if there both barefoot?

“You’re a teenager.” It came out in total awe. Emma’s hand came up to caress the soft bare cheek. Sometimes the thought of him one day becoming a man hit her so strongly. This was one of those moments.

That smile turned into something knowing and something distinctly teenager-related.

“It’s nice that you noticed, Mom.”

Emma just wanted to take a minute to take everything about him in. It had been months now since she’d seen him. And now it was time to start all over again. It was time to feel out this new beginning in a familiar kind of a way.

“I missed you,” she told him firmly. Her hand moved to the top of his head, smoothing down over his hair. “This is the last time I agree to let you stay an extra week.”

It had been due to circumstance. The double team she had received from him and Neal had convinced her that missing the first week of school wouldn’t be so horrible. It wasn’t even a full week of school at that. Their mini-vacation had extended beyond the original date. He’d missed a couple days of school, as well as being able to help her move. But other than that, it wasn’t that big of a deal, right?

So he had stayed.

“I missed you, too,” Henry assured her easily. “I’m glad to be home.” His head raised then, his eyes darting across her face. “Well at least glad to see what home looks like?”

Emma smiled down at him. And she knew that she should let him go, not hold on for so long. So it took everything in her to step back and give him his space.

“Well, we could go and get lunch while you tell me all about your summer,” she suggested. “Or we could go back to the apartment and you can see what it looks like.”

“I’m ready to see the new place,” Henry confided in her. “I want to start getting my room together before school tomorrow.”

Emma pulled him against her, her smile spreading as she felt him in her arms.

“Isn’t that responsible of you,” she murmured into him. “We can definitely do that.”

He was home. She wasn’t alone anymore. And for this brief small moment, she felt as if it was enough.

 

 

****

 

With an internal groan, she pulled the car key out of the ignition and fisted it tightly in her hand.

“The only setback that I’ve seen so far is the proximity of neighbors.” Emma’s gaze slipped over to said neighbor as he tinkered away at something low on his motorcycle. Which hadn’t been the norm out in the front of the apartment house. At least not in the past week. Of course, it had only been a week…

“We’ve lived in apartments.”

Emma turned her attention back to Henry, reading the expectation on his face.

“How will this be any different?” he finished asking. And he sounded genuinely curious about her comment.

“Well maybe it makes certain people more accessible to being ‘neighborly’ than you’d actually like,” Emma offered. It sounded good and plausible to her. If it sounded confusing to him though, then she wouldn’t be surprised.

“Are you… having problems with our new neighbor?” His focus turned past the dashboard and onto the man before them. “Already, Mom?”

That earned him a small smile. He made it seem as if that was the norm…

“I’m not difficult to get along with, am I?”

Henry turned again, looking back at her. And he took just a moment to really look her over. And she refused to feel self-conscious over it.

“Mom, I would never be the one to accuse you of being prickly.”

Now those words earned him a scoff. And a squint of her eyes as she thought about that.

“Prickly?” Prickly. Who? Her? “Why would you even say that?”

“I said that I wouldn’t accuse you of that,” Henry reminded her. He turned his attention to his seat belt then, but Emma still saw the hidden smile.

Prickly. Hm…

“I don’t think he thinks I’m prickly,” she muttered as she unfastened her own seatbelt. And she ignored the distinctly amused laugh of her son beside her.

Emma reluctantly glanced back up at the man crouching down in their yard. It had been one week, and…

She didn’t like the way he looked at her. She didn’t like the easiness of his smiles and the appreciative glint in his eye when she passed by him. And it was bordering on strong annoyance that she notice that that smile was accentuated by twin dimples on either side of his cheeks and his eyes were a deep and crystal blue. Those details had been hard to ignore when he took his sweet time watching her whenever the chance arose.

An apartment house was different that an apartment complex. This arrangement was more residential- more personal- than that of a building that had housed twelve or so apartments. Here, there was more shared space. More of those instances of being personable with a certain set of people. And in this instance, she was stuck with the very good looking man who continuously reached out.

“Are you ready, Mom?”

Emma watched as Henry’s hand gripped the car door. He was watching her expectantly. And even if she wasn’t sure if she was ready to make the quick passing by of them in front of him, she was ready to show Henry their new home.

“Grab the bags from the trunk,” she told him, pressing the button so that the trunk popped open.

He was already out of the car, and she watched as his quick steps brought him to the back of the car.

Emma moved a bit slower. If they could get into the apartment without having to share more than a nod of acknowledgment to the man crouching there, then it would be a good day.

“Do you need any help?”

Why did it have to be instant?

His voice was lilting and friendly. The accent had been a surprise the first time she had heard it. Which shouldn’t have been the case when looking at him. A transplant, most definitely. Not an American, but she would have guessed that he’d been here long enough. She wouldn’t be phased by something she saw as a gimmick properly used to lure others into a false sense of security.

It wasn’t his voice though, she realized as she looked over to see him rising slowly from his crouching position. Instead, it was that quick and easy grin that made her wary. That grin and that slight lift of his eyebrow that read more than just friendly. Why couldn’t he mind his own business? Why did he feel the need to encroach himself on her? Neighbors!

“No thank you,” Emma called tersely.

Where was the tension coming from? She didn’t know why it began, but she felt it creeping from somewhere down deep and spreading evenly and slowly.

“Are you sure?”

Persistent, wasn’t he? He had completely abandoned the bike and was making his way over to them. Persistent and on the verge of annoying.

It wasn’t the lack of being able to take no for an answer. It was the fact that there was little regard for her wishes- as if it meant nothing to him.

She felt the way her mouth set in a firm line. It had been involuntary, the reaction to him walking up to the car. Or was it more of a saunter? As if he had any right to be so bold. As if he had any right to put himself into a situation pertaining to only her. She didn’t like it.

“I said no thank you.” It was as stiff as her stance. But she couldn’t help either reaction.

“Because it would be no problem.”

He stood directly in front of her then. She felt as if that smile was just for her, taunting. It was as if he was making fun of her for… God only knew what.

“Mom?”

Henry appeared from behind the trunk. There was a bag hanging from his hand and a curious look on his face. And that look was shared between her and the neighbor.

“Mom?”

As if it was any of his business…

It was a look of disbelief written on his face, his blue eyes widening just a bit at her. And then he turned towards her son.

“Yes, my son,” Emma confirmed stiffly. Why did it matter to him anyway?

He only threw her a quick glance over his shoulder at her. “I didn’t mean anything by it. I just… had no idea.” He turned back to Henry then.

Which held no relevance either…

Emma didn’t know if it was the protective mother instincts in her, or if she was being her unusually guarded self. Most likely the latter. It was something that she could be conscious of, but it didn’t make it easier to sway.

Her neighbor hadn’t meant anything by his questions and comments. So… she just needed to breathe.

“I’m Killian.” Her neighbor’s greeting to Henry was accompanied by a hand shooting out. “It’s nice to meet you, lad.”

Killian. She hadn’t known his name before that moment. It had been a week and it hadn’t crossed her mind to find out that bit on information. It made him more real. Killian. Just as she had warned Henry of. Personable…

She wasn’t surprised by the easiness of Henry’s smile. She wasn’t surprised that he had quickly took his hand to shake.

“Hi. I’m Henry.” His shrug was small and just as comfortable. “It’s nice to meet you, too.”

What was happening right in front of her? This is exactly what she had just warned Henry about. Getting so chummy with the neighbor who obviously had no problem with being so friendly.

“I live across the hall from you guys,” Killian continued to explain. He was quick to turn back towards her then, that smile plastered on his face. “And we haven’t been formally introduce either.” And that hand shot out again. “Killian Jones.”

Emma was hesitant. He had found his way in. Had jumped at the chance to do more than just glance at her in passing. Opportunist!

She bit the inside of her cheek, the annoyance growing, before she finally shared.

“Emma Swan.”

Her neighbor- Killian- sank his teeth into his lip, keeping the grin to an appropriate level. But she knew. He had got exactly what he had wanted: her name.

“It’s nice to finally meet you as well, Ms. Emma Swan?” But there was something curious in that glance as he watched her.

Emma would not give him the satisfaction of knowing that bit of information. Yes, she was a Ms. once more. Had even opted to go back to her maiden name. Neal had moved on. So… had she.

His eyes fell over to the trunk of the car. “You have quite a number of bags here. Let me help you.”

It was instinctive that she wanted to protest the offer. Watching him move closer to Henry and the trunk didn’t help the situation.

“That’ll be okay, right, Mom?”

Henry was looking at her expectantly. He was looking at her like a child who didn’t understand what it meant when a person was using persuasion to get what they wanted. It was clear to her. So clear that Killian had seen an opening and went for it.

But her son…

Emma raised her hands in the air, feeling both fed up and ready to give in.

“Fine.”

Her steps towards the trunk were quick. She ignored the man who stood beside her, and instead picked up the suitcase closest at her reach.

She needed to get a handle on the irritable reaction that she’d had- the reaction that he had caused.

It was with a huff that the bag fell from the trunk, Emma gripping it tightly against her. She moved then, refusing to show any outward reaction further than what she had already, and moved towards the door of the apartment house.

A bit touchy, your mom is, yes?

“I heard that,” she muttered.

It took everything inside her to not turn around and throw them both a look of surprise.

Touchy? Synonymous with prickly?

Maybe one quick look…

She saw the hint of a smile of Henry’s face as he looked up at Killian. And Killian…

Huffing up two of the suitcases into his hands without a hint of a problem, his smile there for the world to see.

Touchy, she may be. But annoyed was such a better word for what she was right then.

 

****

 

The kid angle was an interesting one. Not one that he had expected. And it wasn’t a young kid. Henry- Emma’s son’s name was Henry. Her name?

It had been a full week, and he’d finally found out her name. Killian hadn’t been sure if it was going to take bribing the mailman to find out or not. He was a patient man, but it was something that piqued his interest beyond belief. Her name could be a gateway to knowing so much more about her.

Emma. It suited her.

He’d never been this close to her.

Her eyes! They were blue. They weren’t even brown as he had envisioned. How had green not crossed his mind? And how had he ever thought that any other color would be more perfect? Green. Yes, green.

Was he smirking too much? Perhaps so, because she still seemed as annoyed as she’d been… in every other of their encounters. His infiltration into her home only made the annoyance grow. But there was something about her standoffishness that intrigued him anyway. It only made him want to get underneath those layers. Because nothing could convince him that there wasn’t more underneath.

There were too many questions bubbling up to the surface that wanted to spill out of his mouth. But it was the way she hooked that long lock of blonde hair behind her ear that told him that she might not be receptive of that. It was the way she moved carefully around the whole of the couch, not having met his eyes in all the time he had been in the apartment with her that made it nearly impossible to follow his first mind.

Killian knew it wasn’t timidity that forced her gaze from his. He knew it wasn’t total dislike for him as the reason she was probably mentally shooing him out the door.

“I like it, Mom.”

Second bedroom mystery solved.

Henry emerged from down the hall, coming from his bedroom. There was a huge smile on the young teen’s face as he looked at Emma.

He put the boy at thirteen. Which made him estimate her age at maybe… thirty and thirty-three (she couldn’t be any older than that).

“My room is even bigger than the last one,” he told her.

Definitely single mom…

There were too many questions.

“Aye, it is a beautiful apartment,” Killian chimed in. “It is exactly laid out as my own.”

She looked up at him then, those eyes cutting through him and his small talk.

“Thank you so much.” She was moving then, towards him. But it wasn’t friendly. It was rather cold, to be honest.

It only made Killian smile. The tightening of her mouth told him that she didn’t like that either.

“With… the luggage?” he asked innocently enough.

She was closer than she’d ever been in that moment. And there was a scent of something sweet. Ah, there was a need to know what cocktail made up that scent that was uniquely Emma Swan’s.

“My son has just made it home from a long trip,” she continued softly.

Killian couldn’t help the way his eyes took an appreciative glance from booted toe to golden head one more good time.

“So…”

Finally, he met her guarded eyes with his amused ones.

“Oh, is that my line to exit?”

He would have bet any amount of money that the role of her eyes was involuntary in that second.

“Well, if you don’t mind,” she offered pleasantly.

Oh, this Emma Swan…

“I knew you could do sweet,” Killian told her smoothly, the corners of his lips lifting just slightly.

It was that roll of her eyes that made him want more. But, his eyes slid over to Henry, an audience wasn’t warranted.

It was difficult to bite hit tongue on this one. There were so many questions that he had yet to ask. Of them both. But maybe… maybe this wasn’t the right time.

“Well, like I said.” Killian looked back to her.

She had angled her body away, annoyance so easily read.

“Emma?” And he waited. Waited for her to at least look at him again. So that he could see those eyes and the pink lips that were permanently a single line.

“It’s nice that I was finally able to get to know a little more about you,” Killian told her softly, And those eyes, looking at him but guarded by something as mysterious as the first time he’d seen her. "I'm just across the hall. No need to be strangers anymore, no?”

“Well, I guess we’ll just have to see about that.” She turned on her heel with that, taking her leave.

“Thank you, Mr. Jones.”

Killian turned his attention to Henry then, who was making his way into the living room. Where his mother was lacking in hospitality, her son made up.

“It’s Killian,” he corrected. And he offered him a friendly smile.

Henry had been his way in. If not for the boy, there was no telling how long it would have been before she’d open that door. And for that, he was grateful. For that, there was a special thanks to be given.

“Okay” Henry smiled. “Killian.”

He’d been on vacation. Emma had said plane, so he was sure that he’d been gone for at least a week and most likely longer. Perhaps with his father.

Killian felt the need to dig deeper, but he was also good with reading situations. This was not the time that he was going to get more out of her. And she would be protective of her son since they’d just been reunited.

“Then I’ll be off,” he told them with a huff. “See you around.”

Emma didn’t turn back towards him, deciding to grab one of the bags left on the floor and pulling it towards the hall.

It was Henry who walked with him to the door, offering a returned smile.

Killian grabbed at the doorknob, swinging the door open just wide enough.

“She’s not always so touchy.”

It was Henry’s words from behind him that had made Killian turn. The look of ease and knowing on the boy’s face was quite telling. He was quite telling.

“I’m sure that’s true.”

More questions began storming through his mind. But now wasn’t the time.

“Take care of her,” Killian told him.

It must have been a peculiar statement for the boy to hear, because he was slow to bob his head, his eyes not quite meeting Killian’s.

“Bye, Killian.”

And there was no more to be said. Not now.

He gave Henry a single nod.

“Goodbye.”

He pulled the door open wider and- not giving in to the want to see her just once more- slid out into the hallway. The door was shut closed softly and…

Killian turned quickly back around to face that door.

What was the cause for the hard outer shell? What was it going to take to break through it?

Another smile crossed his face as he placed a flat hand against the door. Emma Swan would be more of a challenge that he’d first believed. But, he thought as his hand smoothed down the wood, he did love a challenge. And he had all the confidence in the world that it could be done.

 

 

****

Emma fell down on the couch that had been behind her. She looked up to Henry who still stood at the door.

“And now that we’re alone,” she said with a sigh, “tell me what you think.”

Henry turned around to look at her. It only took her patting down the spot on the couch beside her to get him to move towards her.

“I like it, Mom,” he told her with a nod. “So… was it Killian that you were warning me about when you were talking about neighbors?”

His question caught her off guard. He had changed the subject from them to the neighbor.

“Well you see how he was, Henry.” She watched him closely as he sat down beside her.

“You mean how… he offered to help?”

It was apparent that he didn’t see things the way that she did…

“Exactly.” Her hand moved to the top of his head, smoothing over his hair once again.

“Mom?”

There was a pause as he looked at her.

“Yeah, Henry?”

“You got here last Sunday, right?”

She nodded. She knew that he knew that. “Yeah?”

The smile on his face was small as he watched her closely. “I think Killian offered to help because he likes you, Mom.”

What was she supposed to say to that stunned declaration from her son?

“Henry… Henry…” she stammered. “I… don’t think…”

“I have to get my stuff unpacked,” Henry said, stopping her thoughts where they were right there. “And then maybe we can go out to eat?”

Emma watched him as he stood back up.

“Um… yeah. We’ll go get something to eat. And you can tell me about Tallahassee and your family. It’ll be great.”

“Then,” he said, backing away from her and heading out of the living room, “I’ll be quick.”

Emma nodded again. “Okay. Great.”

And as Henry disappeared back towards the hallway and away from her, Emma shook her head.

No, she would not think about what her son had just put out there for her to ruminate on. She would not think about the way her heart stammered just a bit or how it was ready to throw up walls so high that it would take more time than what Henry was offering to come down just enough.

No.

No.

She was going to file his comments away for as long as possible. And she would concentrate on the matter at hand: settling herself and her son into this new life that was now theirs.

Because that was what Emma was good at. Pushing through and burying.

Yes, that sounded… just right.


	4. Chapter 3

Killian stared intently at the computer screen in front of him. The article was… it was incomplete! There was something missing …

Tax tweaks and budget cuts were one thing to cover. They just weren’t the type of political story that had the grasp of holding his attention. At least not right now. But it was the piece that he had been assign to cover. It was his current story he was working on. And deadlines had to be met sooner rather than later.

He pushed himself and his chair away from the desk, putting space between him and the problem. Maybe the information was there in his notes somewhere, either in his computer saved in a file or even written as a note somewhere on the desk in front of him. Hopefully so, because if he didn’t find it there, it was going to mean taking a trip downtown and harass officials about the mayor’s intent. And that meant a longer day.

His focus drew to the clock in the bottom right corner of the screen. A trip would mean not making it home in time to meet Liam and Ruby. And Ruby didn’t take kind to being kept waiting. That hadn’t actually improved in the six months that she’d been pregnant.

Being late would also interfere with his usual routine of checking out the neighbor when she usually strolled in at about four twenty on the weekdays (give or take a few minutes).

Killian smiled to himself at that thought. Had he really memorized the times where there paths could maybe cross? Well… yes. But it would be a difficult thing for him not to notice.

Emma Swan was up and out of her apartment before he was up. He would have guessed that she left somewhere around seven o’clock. It would make sense because he had seen Henry out around the time he himself was leaving for the newspaper, walking towards some bus stop that would lead him to school.

His teeth caught and held his lip as he looked at that computer screen. It was possible that he could make a phone call first. And that could be done at home… Killian was thankful for his lenient work schedule: his mornings were held at the office when most of his afternoons- unless pressing news otherwise didn’t permit- he worked from home. Although he freelanced at the Boston Globe, his work between there and the online paper were quite balanced. So…

It was the mysterious Emma Swan that had now popped into his mind and wouldn’t leave him alone. His quiet and sheltered neighbor who only wanted to stay that way.

It would be so easy to dig up some information on her. Not that he wanted to dig deep, because it was nothing better than getting information straight from the source (and he wanted to hear it all from those gorgeous lips). But that didn’t mean that a little social media check wouldn’t be beneficial. A quick glance at the more popular sites that just about anyone would have, even if the information wasn’t always kept up to date. Maybe even a picture or two of her with a smile on her face instead of that permanent scowl.

Killian moved his fingers over the mouse, debating with himself back and forth over the pros and cons of where his mind was taking him. If only he’d felt as if he was making some headway with her.

Emma had reluctantly let him into her home- all at the maneuvering and quick skill he had in him. Then again, there hadn’t been much of a breakthrough since then.

He needed a way in. Because there was something there. He knew it from way down deep that there was something there. Behind those wary eyes. Behind that firm mouth. And he needed to know more.

So… Killian’s hands closed over the mouse, moving to save and close the file.

Emma Swan.

Tempting… But… not just yet.

He could do it on his own. Not with easy access of social media sites at his fingertips. No, he was better than that. She would give in to him before he had to stoop to digging through Facebook, Twitter, or even scrounging through photos on Instagram.

Even more tempting. She was a young mother. A mother of a teenage son. But that, or the stiff demeanor, didn’t mean it was the only aspect of her life. He knew that there was a genuine smile hiding inside of there. He would find it.

A genuine smile. For him. From her.

If he couldn’t coax that out of her- highly doubtful- then he wasn’t Killian Jones.

 

****

Killian’s mouth had just started to open when the phone in his pocket began to ring. There was a lot of things processing all of a sudden in his mind at that exact moment. The sketching pad that Liam had absentmindedly picked up from the kitchen counter had also caught his eye. He wasn’t sure just which one that one was. He had a habit of laying them all around the apartment with little regard. The habit was one that he’d had for years, and one he knew his brother knew about. They ended up laying wherever inspiration had struck, along with a variety of pens and pencils. And the one Liam was now holding in his hands and flipping through…

He didn’t think that Emma Swan was in that book. So far, he had controlled the urge and kept any drawings to one specific book. And… his eyes squinted tightly and he felt the quickening of his heart… he didn’t think that was the one.

Killian slipped his hand into his pants pocket, fishing out the phone as his eyes locked on his brother.

“Interesting, Killian.” The murmur wasn’t conclusive enough.

Killian glanced down at the phone in his hand before doing a double-take. Even the idea of Liam seeing any of the few drawings he’d done of his new neighbor wasn’t enough to draw his attention from the known number flashing in front of him. And he was almost sure that it wasn’t the right sketchbook…

A slow smile crept on his face. She was calling, and…

“I have a feeling.”

There was a look of piqued interest on Liam’s face as he watched him. The book was dropped back to the counter as he looked only at Killian.

“Who is that?”

Killian slid his thumb over the bar, connecting the call. He held a hand for his brother to be quiet and listen. “Hello.”

“Killian, sweetie.”

So she wasn’t irritated, he mused. He bit down on his lip instantly to keep his smile to a minimum. Watching Liam, he pressed down on the speaker button to turn it on.

“Jessica, love. How… are you doing?”

He watched Liam’s shoulder go up in a knowing shrug. It only made Killian’s smile grow to watch him turned back to the book and start flipping pages.

“I could be better,” she whispered softly. “It’s been a while.”

And that whisper conjured up thoughts of the lips that had spoken those words. Soft lips that liked to press kisses behind his ear, while his hand splayed through the cute and chic dark pixie cut. There were other places she liked to kiss him as well. And other places his hands liked to splay…

“It… has… been a while,” Killian agreed.

Maybe it was the tone of his voice that forced Liam’s head up from gazing at the book. The interest was back as his eyes seemed to light up and the corners of his mouth lifted.

“Why don’t we change all of that with dinner?” Jessica suggested.

A nice suggestion. One that could lead to more suggestions. Maybe so enjoyable after-dinner activities…

“That sounds good,” he murmured into the phone.

But it was the way Liam looked from the sketch book to him, and the strange look in his eyes, that gave Killian pause. It was the way his eyes locked on him as he began moving towards him.

He had been sure that nothing was in that book, but…

Emma Swan was a classic beauty that was shrouded in dark mystery. He’d had the pleasure of being up close- but unfortunately not too personal- on very few occasion. Frankly, too few as the weeks passed. So he wasn’t sure how to capture her just right. There had been something missing, it was an innate belief that something was missing, and those pieces are what kept the drawings from being just right.

“We could go to…”

Oh.

Jessica.

Damn. How had he gone from imagining being wrapped up in her to imagining the perfection that was the enigmatic presence from across the hall?

“What’s this?” Liam whispered, now standing directly in front of him.

What the hell was it? He had the book turned away from him, so how in the hell could he defend his drawing or defend the feelings he’d had about her or defend the need to know more about her?

“Killian?”

Damn! Jessica.

“Jessica, love?” His accent was thick on that question. If he remembered correctly, she had an absolute affinity for that accent. And he knew how to use those advantages. “I would adore the opportunity to get together with you-“

He ignored the playful nod of Liam’s head and the smirk on his face. Well, the point wasn’t to charm his brother…

“I’ll just have to call you back later,” he continued to tell her. And he poured on the charisma, despite his brother finding pure amusement in it.

It didn’t take much- a few words of regret and remorse. She may not have been the one exclusive woman in his life- and he definitely was not the only man in hers- but they had their fun. And quick promises of a day, or night, together had ended the short conversation.

“I’m holding you to this, Mr. Killian Jones.”

It was Liam who reacted to the sweetness of her voice. Shaking his head, he finally turned the book around.

It wasn’t Emma Swan. Well, of course it wasn’t.

“I will… see you soon, Jessica.” His head tilted as he searched Liam’s face. Why the smirk at this particular drawing?

“Goodbye, Killian.”

And with the sing-song voice of the beautiful woman filling the quiet room, he disconnected the call without another single word.

“Hm, any possibility that this… Jessica may be the one?”

“The one?” Killian felt the sharp drop of his brow at Liam’s question. “The one?” And then it hit him, of course. “Jessica is not the one.”

“Because I thought…”

“So the drawing?” Killian cut off his brother, stopping the conversation from going any further.

He watched as that drew Liam’s attention straight down to the book.

“It’s beautiful,” he acknowledged. There was an awe about the way he said it. “Ruby is beautiful here.”

He’d finished the drawing just yesterday. Ruby was an absolutely beautiful pregnant woman. At six months, the bump wasn’t that big at all. But there was definitely something about the way she now glowed. And in this particular drawing, with hands wrapping protectively over that bump, sweeping strands of browns and reds of her hair closed over them both, he thought that he had captured her well. And maybe the bump had been accentuated a bit.

“She’s not this pregnant yet.” A small smile quirked Liam’s mouth. “So unless you want her to bite your head off, I suggest that you don’t let her see this for at least a month.”

Even in his jest, there was a tenderness in the way that Liam looked down at the drawing of his wife. It was so easy to see. Just as it had always been.

Lucky in love was his brother. A love that was deserved and returned. Sometimes… it was unbelievable to himself.

“Ah…” Killian felt the sudden twitch of his own lips as the curved up. “I agree with you.”

“Speaking of…” Liam threw a quick hand to Killian’s shoulder as he moved passed him. The book was placed back on the counter, with care, where he’d found it.

Killian watched as he went to the refrigerator and opened the door. Well, there had been a reason for them coming back inside the apartment.

“We better get going before she has our heads for leaving her outside for so long.”

Hm, he could imagine that as well. Ruby was a nice a beautiful girl, but never let it be said that there wasn’t a toughness to her.

The absolute perfect match for Liam.

Looking down at his hand, he noticed the phone that he was still holding.

Jessica. Yes.

Beautiful girl.

And yet…

It wasn’t the raven-haired beauty, whose touch he knew intimately, that entered his mind. At least not for long, before being booted out by…

The shutting of the refrigerator door, along with the clinking of beer bottle to beer bottle, made Killian look back up at his brother. Sliding the phone into his pants pocket, he offered a bright smile.

“It’s a beautiful day out. I’m sure Ruby is fine sitting out on the porch.”

“Yes, I’m sure.”

Bottles of beers and water hanging from his fingers, he offered Killian a smile. “But, to be on the safe side.”

Killian felt the involuntary poke up his lip.

“Well, to be on the safe side.”

He turned then, smiling even wider at the thought of his family. Who would ever disagree: the dynamics were amazing!

 

****

“What are you staring at?”

Had he been staring? Killian smiled across the length of the walk out porch, gazing at his sister-in-law. Ruby’s face, that was now actually plump since before the pregnancy, had a look of positive inquiry.

She looked comfortable enough, leaning back in the plastic lawn chair. Maybe he had been staring. But it was the bump that had really held his attention, poking out like never before. His drawing was still- he’d say it- a month off.

She’d adore it. Possibly in a month.

“I was just thinking about the kid,” he answered her with an easy smile.

Ruby’s hands clasped automatically over that bump.

“Oh, yeah?” Her pout only made her plumpness all the more noticeable. “It’s been six months, but it feels like a lifetime.”

“You look good, Ruby,” he assured her with a smirk.

It wasn’t a thankful or satisfying smile that was returned. From Ruby? Of course not. It was a glare of shrewdness.

“Shut up, Killian.” And with that admonishment, she turned her head away from him.

It almost made him laugh, his sister-in-law and her bluntness that was on the verge of shortness. But his thoughts turned just then…

The look in her eyes made him think of Emma Swan. It reminded him of a look that he had often seen on her face. Often? It was basically the only look he had seen on her face.

Would the two of them get along with one another? It was a question that had crossed his mind. But he simply did not know enough about the woman who lived across the hall from him. And it made him realize how he really needed to know more about the woman across the hall.

The woman who had no problem ignoring him at any and every turn. The woman who ignored the charming (if he did say so himself) smile that he generously gave. The woman who ignored the simple hellos and walked past as if she’d heard nothing.

And here he was thinking about things that held no relevance. At least not at this time. But maybe it would someday…

“Are you still thinking about the baby?”

Killian’s eyes locked on Ruby’s quickly, giving in to her question and pulling him back into reality. Because this right here- him at home with his brother and sister-in-law spending a lazy afternoon together- was the truth.   
“Because I get the feeling…”

“I’m wondering how you two could possibly wait for the birth of my first ever niece or nephew before any of us find out if it’s my niece or if it’s my nephew,” Killian offered instead of the truth. Because there was no reason to divulge his thoughts of Emma to her.

“Well, I don’t know if it’s the hormones- I said shut up, Killian…”

So there had been a quick-witted joke on the tip of his tongue. Who had told her to be so smart as to catch it before it had the chance to slip out?

“I said nothing, love,” he whispered softly across to her, shaking his head.

“We were thinking about going ahead and finding out at the next appointment,” Ruby breathed out.

That was an absolute surprise that had him sit straight up in his seat.

“Liam didn’t tell me that.”

Ruby threw an easy shoulder up in a shrug. “Like I said, we’re thinking about it. We may change our mind before the day comes.”

“Because sometimes… we change our minds.”

It was easy to read between his brother’s words as he pushed through the door. There was no doubt about who was in charge on that end of things.

The two bottles of beer and the single bottle of water hung from Liam’s hands as he made his way outside.

Killian was quick to stand up from his seat, moving to meet his brother half way.

But Liam had eyes only for Ruby. There was his own smirk on his face as he absentmindedly held out one of those bottles for Killian.

She had been around for three years. Only three years? Sometimes that didn’t seem possible. Sometimes it didn’t feel right. Not when she had turned not only his brother’s life on its side with a love that would be sickening sometimes. (It never made it to that phase.) She had also affected Killian’s life as well.

It had always been the two of them, even when their mother was still living. The four-year age gap had only meant that Liam had been in charge, for the most part. It meant that he was the big brother and got to make the decision. It had meant, when their mother had died the summer Killian was to go off to university, it was Liam who took the helm to both of their lives.

At least he was now an adult.

That was a thought he’d often had. It had been sudden. So quick. And…

His mind didn’t want to go there. Thinking of his mother who had put her sons above all else. It was the only thing she could do after their father had left years before.

No problem of not focusing on him. Those memories were brief and almost non-existent. But Liam had always told him that he was lucky that he’d only been four when their father had abandoned the family. He wasn’t stuck with the memories that wouldn’t escape Liam.

That was one way to look at it.

Since the age of eighteen, it had been only him and his brother. And when Liam had told him to pack up his bags because they were leaving for America, (It’s time for a fresh new start, little brother.) Killian had only momentarily pondered the validity of such a venture. All these years later, he’d known it had been the only decision to make.

That had been more than ten years ago. And Liam had been right. For all the circumstances that had made up his life, for all the positives that he’d experience, it had come at the hands of his brother’s decision to take the leap.

The outcome was this right here. A family that was growing. Stemming from a place of true love. It would have been so easy to have given up in life at the age of eighteen. But it hadn’t happened. This- family, career, life- had happened. All because of Liam.

So the fact that his brother had his own personal success? The fact that he was the one with the budding family? That was the only way this could have been right.

“Our next ultrasound isn’t for a couple of weeks now,” Liam said, placing a hand on the shoulder of his wife. “There’s plenty of time to decide.”

“Killian?”

He turned his attention to Ruby, who was watching him with interest.

“This is one of the biggest surprises that we could ever experience,” he reminded her. “So it’s a big decision.”

“Oh, no.” He shook his head, refusing to laugh or smile. “I completely understand.” Which he did. “I’m still pulling for a nephew. At least for bump number one.”

“Hey… Killian?”

Liam’s gaze had fell from Ruby and went towards something off of the porch.

Killian followed where he’d lead. And he knew instantly what his question was.

“That’s Henry.”

“Who’s Henry?”

Yes, this was the normal time that he made it home from school. His routine had been noted by Killian a while ago. The bus dropped him off some block away. From there he walked back here.

His mom usually didn’t make it home for another hour or sometimes two, leaving Henry home alone during that time.

“He is Emma’s son,” he answered.

“Ah, the infamous Emma,” Ruby said softly. “Swan, right?”

What had Liam told her about Emma Swan? And why?

“Yeah.”

Turning back to his family and seeing the shared looks between them both caused the frown on his face.

“What’s that for?”

Liam moved then, slipping into the seat next to Ruby.

“I told her about your new neighbor.”

That was an interesting fact. “You don’t know anything about my new neighbor. So what could you have actually shared?”

“Just that you have a thing for her is all,” Ruby shared. “And she has a teenage son that you don’t mind either.”

“Did you also tell her about Jessica?” Killian asked softly. “Because that’s only fair.”

“Who is Jessica?” Ruby turned swiftly back towards Liam with that.

The smile on his face was small, but bright. “Just one of the many.”

“Oh.” Her gaze found Killian’s again. “Did you notice how we singled out neighbor Emma Swan instead of placing her in the bubble with all ‘the others?’”

Ah! The air quotes that accompanied the question was… cute.

“I noticed.” And she had dared to laugh. Right at him. “Ruby, be quiet.”

“Hi, Killian.”

The turn was quick, the sound of the boy’s voice a bit surprising.

“Henry.” He was taking the steps two by two, placing him on the porch before them. “How was school today?”

He stopped right beside him, his fingers gripping the straps of his backpack.

“It was fine.”

It was something about the way he stood there. It was with an ease and assuredness. Why could his mother be the same way?

Henry turned his attention to the two new faces.

“Oh, Henry.” Killian placed a moved closer to him, placing a hand to his shoulder. “My apologies. This is my brother, Liam, and my sister-in-law, Ruby. You may see them around a bit.”

The exchange of pleasantries between the trio was easy as well. Quick smiles and “hi’s” from all around.

But there was something about the way Ruby and Liam were looking at him.

“I’ll see you around later, Killian?” Henry said slowly, moving closer towards the door and away from them.

“I will see you around,” he called to him, watching the young boy as he carefully moved inside. “Hey, Henry?” Because he wasn’t standoffish like his mother. Because he was, quite possibly, the best way in.

Henry turned back to him, a look of curiosity on his face.

“If you ever need anything,” Killian told him, “I’m across the hall. I noticed that your mom doesn’t make it home for a little bit. So… if you ever need anything.”

He nodded, and his smile was a bit curious-looking to Killian.

“Um, yeah.” His eyes fell over the three of them now, and that smile grew. “Thanks, Killian.” And then he stepped back, moving farther inside, and disappearing down the hall.

“He looks like a good kid.”

Ruby’s murmur was soft. Her eyes fell from Liam and onto Killian.

“He does seem like a good kid.” There was nothing else to do but agree with her.

And as far as he could tell, Killian could do nothing but agree with that statement.

“I think he is a good kid. Being raised by a good mom.” He heard the close of the apartment door. He knew that Henry had made it inside.

“I… want to meet the mom.”

There was a smile in Ruby’s voice. And one on her face, he saw, as she looked at Liam.

“What? Why?”

“She is not one of ‘the others.’” It was directed to his brother, and a shared looked went between them.

“She’s not one of the others.”

At least husband and wife could agree on something.

“Ruby?”

Killian didn’t know where they could possibly go with their thoughts.

“Yeah?”

She ran through his mind so quickly: blonde hair, guarded green eyes, sweet pink mouth. The fact that he didn’t know much else about her other than the physical was beginning to become an annoyance.

“Be quiet,” he whispered to Ruby.

It was out of the corner of his eye, as he twisted the cap off of his beer, that he saw her hands fall over the bump. But at least she was quiet. Who were either one of them to categorize a woman in his standards? Especially when they knew nothing about her.

For now- just right now… 

The first sip of beer was ice cold and hit the spot.

For now, he would put Emma Swan out of his mind.

****

He heard the door when it closed. Or maybe he had been listening for it. He was able to draw in different atmospheres, but in this moment he had chosen to work in the still and quiet.

Killian knew that it was Emma finally getting home. And there was a part of him that was happy that Ruby and Liam had made their departure some time before that. He hadn’t liked Ruby’s sudden interest in his neighbor. It left him with an awkward feeling way down deep. It would be better if they kept their minds on… huh… “the others” as they liked to call them.

Sitting on the couch, the pencil stilled in his hand as her presence became noticeable. The sound of heavy steps of booted feet and the rustling of plastic bags. Maybe a lot of bags.

The pencil balanced right on the tips of his fingers, the thought of being neighborly filling his mind.

No…

Not now. Not when she was just making it home from a day that had been longer than usual.

It had to be after five o’clock. She was normally home by this time. She was probably tired from work. (He really had to figure out some of the specifics, like her job. This wasn’t like him.)

She was probably tired from carrying bags up the steps and into the house. But if she had wanted help then she would have had her son meet her to carry some of the weight.

The steps had ceased, and so had the rustling. She would have been at the door, about to go in.

To hell with it…

The pencil and sketchbook both fell to the floor as he jumped up from the couch.

He hadn’t actually seen her in a couple of days. It would be nice to be reminded of those eyes. He wouldn’t even mind if it was accompanied by pursed lips and a begrudging hello. The rarity of a hello from Ms. Emma Swan was enough to overlook the rigidity of it all.

Damn, was that the door?

Killian moved faster, one hand reaching out for the deadbolt and the other reaching for the doorknob.

Damn. He had hesitated. He had questioned giving her privacy for too long that…

Killian swung the door open, being greeted by a matching closed door across the hall.

He’d missed her.

So how was it that he could picture those intensity of those eyes as they glared warily at her? Why did he envision the crispness of her dress and the crispness of her gaze as she turned and shut the door in his face?

Killian caught his bottom lip with his teeth.

Damn.

But maybe it was for the best.

He pushed himself back into his own apartment, closing the door behind him.

Well, it was probably for the best.

His smile, walking back from where he’d dropped everything, was small.

Emma Swan. Or the others.

If he had to choose…

The sketchbook had been left splayed open on the floor on the page he was working on.

But he didn’t have to choose.

Killian picked up the dropped book and pencil before falling back on the couch. Emma Swan may be across the hall, without a lingering thought of him now. But he had at least a year. A year to learn about the many different facets that made her up. So this was nowhere near a setback.

He turned the upside down book up in the correct position, seeing the nearly halfway done drawing of sunset at the Midland pier.

A first date with the backdrop of a setting sun?

Aye. A man could dream.

 

****

“Hey, Killian.”

Killian pulled his bag tighter over his shoulder as he looked at the boy. He was heading in the opposite direction than he should have. With his hand on the apartment door and the key inserted into the keyhole, he was returning instead of leaving.

“Good morning,” he greeted him a bit cautiously. “What are you doing, Henry? Heading off to school?” He’d usually been gone before Killian…

Henry’s hand tightened on the knob and he took in a deep breath.

“I missed the bus. So I guess I’m stuck unless I can get my mom to come get me.”

“From work?”

He didn’t know where she worked. He didn’t know what she did. But she would have been gone for more than an hour already.

“McKinley.” Henry’s answer had been hesitant, and the look in his eyes- he didn’t have his mother’s eyes, but no one would miss where that look came from- gave even more.

“McKinley Middle School?” Killian offered an easy shrug. “I pass by it on my way to work every morning. I could drop you off.”

Maybe it was because Henry was tempted at having a free day from school, but there was a pause still.

“My mom…”

“And this way you don’t have to disturb her at work,” he continued before the rejections started to roll in.

There was another second to just think about it- to weigh the pros and cons of the deal. Before…

“Okay, Killian.” It was at least firm. And then the smile appeared on his face.

“Okay. Great.” He felt his own wheels beginning to turn. Henry always did feel like the key to getting to know Emma a bit more. So maybe…

Henry moved then, his steps quick towards the door.

Killian followed behind, a smile on his face.

“Like I told you, no need to be a stranger.”

Henry looked back at him. And this time it was something different. A bit of intrigue in the boy. A bit of mischief.

Just what was the boy thinking?

“Well I’m convinced.” He shrugged himself. “I guess you just have to see if you can convince my mom of that, too.” And then he was busting through the door, leaving Killian to trail behind.

See? Killian shook his head, keeping the chuckle to himself. He knew there was something about the lad that he really liked!


	5. Chapter 4

“I don’t think that this color scheme is a right fit for this display.”

Emma, her eyes falling over the sweaters and thick jeans hanging up from across the room and then to the palette in front of her, agreed at once with her coworker. The orange tone color scheme screamed early summer. Not even late summer with possible hints of autumn. And that just wouldn’t do.

“Let’s look back at the earth tones,” she said in answer.

She heard Belle French, her early morning cohort, sigh from behind her.

“I think we should go rustic anyway,” Belle suggested lightly.

Emma liked that idea. Earth tones- bark, mushroom, or maybe even earth. Paired with fern. Or sand.

“I think that’s the best way to go about it,” Emma agreed.

“I can run back and get the track light?” Belle asked.

Emma turned around towards the mannequin that donned one pair of the denim jeans. Maybe the blue sweater would pair best with those. And they would need the brown dockyard sport boot to go with it.

“Yeah, that’ll work fine. Can you hand me the navy sweater first?” She looked back at Belle to see that she was already moving.

“Sounds great to me.”

Emma smiled to herself. The boots would be last, but she couldn’t stop thinking about the weight of the mannequin. Once the ensemble was picked out, she would have to lift him back up to put on the boots.

The ringing of a cell phone- it would have been Belle’s phone- cut through the room. It had stopped her right in her tracks as she searched her pocket for it.

It gave Emma time to wonder about which sweater would look best on the mannequin behind her. A need for accessories was a definite also…

“It’s Will, Emma.”

She heard the absolute giddiness in her voice. And when she looked up, Emma saw the way she clutched the phone in her hand.

It was a tiny smile that lifted just the corners of her lips. A new love. A budding love. One that had her friend looking like a teenager again.

“I’m going to run to the storage room and find the perfect lighting arrangement, okay?”

Belle didn’t wait for a response from her. She was already headed towards the door with the phone answered and up to her ear.

“Will!” The exclamation was followed by a sing-song laughter on her end.

Well…

Even her steps suggested a happiness, quick tiny high-heeled steps hit the tiled floor on her way out of the room.

Emma shook her head, moving to the other side of the room in search of the sweater that had completely slipped Belle’s mind. How easy it was to forget everything when…

She felt the instant twisting of her mouth and some unnamed yet familiar stirrings of emotions trying to break through to the surface. It made her steps slow to a crawl, because it had been so noticeable to herself.

She shook her head again, slowly. This time for an entirely different reason. It was difficult to dismiss the sadness that always crept through her at the signs of happiness in other couples. New love- like that of Belle and Will- was just as devastating as a long-term love of a married couple. And it always hit suddenly. Painfully.

It was the easiness at which smiles appeared on their faces. It was the lack of having anything that equated to that in her own life. It was the pain of knowing that the past three years that she had been painfully and utterly alone was only the beginning of the tale.

Three years since she’d ended her last relationship. Or three years since her last relationship had been ended for her.

Walsh.

She’d heard the stories from other men: no matter what is going on, you refuse to open up. So she had vowed to herself that she wouldn’t be that way with Walsh. She would share a part of herself that others had deemed possibly nonexistent. She had shared her.

But had it been enough?

Of course not! She was never enough. Never.

Emma pulled the sweater into her hands, feeling the material warm the tips of her fingers. She hadn’t noticed until then the cold chill.

Work. Set up new display. Plan the layout. Three mannequins to be dressed.

“Damn it.”

Why didn’t work curb the invading thoughts?

It hadn’t been enough. Never was it enough.

No matter how much she needed her mind to focus on her work, it didn’t push away the thoughts that had rushed her mind.

“Damn it.”

Emma slung the sweater over her arm, moving quickly to the other side of the room.

If the blue of this sweater didn’t match well with the pants, then there was also a lighter shade that might work better.

But… the stirrings were there. The sadness had crept in and had taken hold of her.

The sudden intake of breath was harsh and ragged. Ignoring it was the hardest thing that she had to do. Had to do? She had not learned how to accomplish burying the feelings as easy as one, two, three. They came and they liked to hold up space in her mind and in her body. The time and scenario never seemed to matter to the feelings.

Why could it be the most random interaction of contact with those who were normal that could set her off on this path? Why was it seeing the simple act of an excited smile of a woman receiving a phone call from the man in her life that sent her spiraling? Why did it have to be the simplest of advertisements of love that had to remind her of her life and lack of importance to anyone outside her realm of family and friends? Why did it have to make her feel so empty and so alone?

Emma’s eyes (there was a sudden heaviness that made opening them all the more apparent) slowly ran across the mannequin in front of her. Dressing him, that was the plan.

Sometimes work helped. And sometimes work went on autopilot. As she detached one arm and then the other, it was clear that she was on autopilot.

Left arm went to lay on the chair beside him. The right arm followed. Next came slipping the sweater over his head, fitting it to hold snuggly against the chest and abdomen. Then, grabbing an arm and slipping it through the neck hole and attaching it back in place. The same treatment went for the other arm.

It didn’t make the ache go away. It was a physical ache that stemmed from her heart and branched out to other places. Because she could feel sometimes dull, sometimes sharp ache in her chest. The pain was in her ribs, every breath she took making it all the more apparent. She felt it in her limbs, and the weight of each movement only highlighting that fact.

Autopilot left her mind free to roam. Autopilot meant that she couldn’t get away from the thoughts.

Apparently her aloofness gave credit to the reason why Jefferson never made time for her. But it was always career first. How in the hell was she expected to give in a relationship that only proved that she wasn’t worthy of anything?

But she could only blame herself when it came to Graham. Because Graham had tried. He had tried really hard to get her to open up. There had been parts of her that wasn’t sure. And when she’d finally opened herself to the possibility… it had been too late.

Stupid tears!

Emma blinked her eyes open quickly. Refusing to let the tears fall.

Goddammit!

The mannequin would need a belt. A nice thick belt. Preferably black. And the belts were in a bin…

She moved then, walking to the other side of the room.

Walsh.

Walsh had hurt the most… Walsh was the one that she had tried, from day one, to put herself out there for. He was the one- the only one- who had met Henry. If that didn’t signify her willingness to get this right for once in her life, then what else would?

It hadn’t been enough- no. No! She had not been enough. Because it had been so easy for him to go out and cheat on her.

Shit!

Emma’s hands pressed into her eyes. She had failed to keep the tears at bay. She had failed at letting the pain not reach past physical. It had now made it into her head.

“I didn’t take too long, did I?”

She heard Belle’s voice, heard the tap of her shoes. She was getting closer.

“No, you didn’t.” Emma didn’t like the way her voice sounded as it left her mouth. It sounded suspicious and unlike herself.

“He looks great!” Belle said. Emma could hear her footsteps taking her towards where the mannequin stood. Taking her away from her.

“I’m just going to find him a belt,” Emma murmured, dropping in front of the box.

“I’ll pull out number two then,” she heard Belle say.

It had been the normalcy of her voice that Emma had notice. It hadn’t been something she had to strive for. It had sounded natural. Because it was natural. There wasn’t some deep dark pain that was being hidden behind a veil of normalcy. She just was… fine.

There was such a strong need to have that for herself.

Emma Swan. Fine.

Emma Swan. Normal.

Maybe that would happen again. One day.

“Emma?”

“Yeah?” She didn’t turn, not just yet. Because there were still traces of tears in her eyes. That wasn’t something that she needed to share with anyone. Especially not a coworker.

“Emma, are you okay?” She can hear it in Belle’s voice, the concern.

“What?” Emma shook her head quickly.

“Are you okay?” Belle asked again. And she heard the taps of her shoes on the floor. And she knew what that meant.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” It was firm. And firm was good. Firm was what she strived to achieve for. Normal.

Emma blinked by the residual tears. She willed them to go away. Because now was not the time to give into the depression that constantly plagued her.

She pulled out the first belt in sight, not giving it any more thought than that.

“Why? Why did you ask me that?”

“I… I just thought that…”

“Do you like this one?” Emma asked as she turned swiftly around, cutting off Belle’s stammer. “It’ll do, don’t you think?”

She didn’t wait for an answer. She didn’t wait for Belle to get a good look at her. All she hoped was that she paid attention to the matter at hand: the display.

“It works,” Belle agreed.

Emma knelt down in front of the nearly completed mannequin. Her hands smoothed out the wrinkles of the sweater and she patted down the jeans.

Work.

She wanted it to consume her.

Because if worked consumed her, then the façade wouldn’t seem so fake anymore. At least for a little while.

 

****

 

When she left from work, it was already a half hour later than usual. A long day called for a need to get home and get comfortable for an early night in. It also called for a quick dinner. And she was almost sure that Henry wouldn’t mind the pizza she stopped by to get on her way home.

There was something really nice about being in a residential area again. The last apartment complex had been nice. It had been what she had needed at the time: an enclosed area that allowed her to be cocooned around the bustle of hundreds of people.

But what kind of life had that been for Henry? Sure, it was fine. But she could have offered him more of a home. He had home with Neal in Tallahassee. She could give him home here in Boston.

And maybe she wasn’t ready for the status of homeowner just yet. Maybe there was a part of her that still held out hope that…

Was this going to be her life forever? Was she ever going to have the possibility to escape her depression and find happiness again? In herself.

It had to be in herself first.

It wasn’t about the lack of a man being there at her side. Not really. It was the fact that, apparently, something inside of her said no to ever being a good enough choice. That wasn’t about the men and lack of connection. It was about her. Still…

Alone and desolate.

It wasn’t what she wanted…

It wasn’t….

Sometimes being alone lead to these saddening thoughts. And as she looked up at the apartment house, having finally making it home, there was a sigh that escaped her lips.

Emma shook her head, her eyes blinking over and over again.

This wasn’t new. Her life had been stagnant in certain ways for three years now. And even before then there hadn’t been much success in her personal life.

She hated when her mind focused on the failures of her life. And she couldn’t do that right now. Not when she was already late. Not when her son had been home alone for more than two hours. Not when she had the chance to focus on one bright spot in her life.

Emma’s hand was quick to pull down the visor in front of her. She flipped back the cover hiding the mirror and gave herself a quick look-over. It was time to make sure she had the face on that match the activity: home with Henry meant happy smiles and ease. Not the look of worry that took away any and all shine from her eyes.

And she looked… her head tilted just a bit. A bit of lipstick would be a nice touch. A hint of eye shadow. But, overall, the façade was firmly put in place.

It was then that she grabbed the pizza box from beside her in the passenger seat. The bags in the back of the car could wait. Maybe Henry would be so kind as to come out and get her things after dinner.

A genuine smile crossed her lips as she thought about him. Her bright spot in life.

And, getting out of the car with dinner in hand, that is what she would think about as she headed for the apartment. She would think of the bright spots that she had. Sadness couldn’t rule her life twenty-four/seven. This was one of those moments that would be ruled by the good things in her life instead.

And that was it. With a firm nod and a positive viewpoint, she headed for home.

 

 

****

 

“Henry!”

It was quiet, surprisingly quiet, in the apartment. She didn’t even hear as much as the television in the bedroom.

Her steps were slow and cautious as she made her way through the rooms. The living room was as neat as she’d left it that morning. The kitchen as well. She dropped the pizza onto the table absentmindedly.

“Henry!”

Her steps became quicker as she left out of the kitchen. She still didn’t hear a peep in the whole damn place besides her own movements. And when she made it down the hallway towards the bedrooms and bathrooms, her worry only persisted.

Emma only glanced through the rooms, but she came up empty

Emma found herself circling around in the hallway, frowning the entire time. Her thirteen year old son wasn’t home. He was always home when she got off work. He hadn’t called and said he wanted to do anything different.

Call.

She pulled her phone out of her pocket. No missed calls. No new text messages. So she would call him.

Why did he have a cell phone other than this reason right here but to stay in contact with her? She would never consider herself to be a helicopter parent, who was in need to know what her kid was doing every second of every day. But she did expect him to stay in contact if plans changed.

Where in the hell was he?

It hadn’t got dark out. If he wanted to go hang out with a friend though, he should have something.

The phone only rang twice before she got nervous. It just wasn’t like him. Not to call. Not to stay in contact.

He answered after the third ring…

“Mom?”

Did he have the nerve to sound regretful?

“Henry, where are you?”

Emma liked to think that they had a good relationship where, no matter the role of mother and son were traditionally supposed to be, because it had just been the two of them for so long they did have an open relationship. He shared with her, and she…. Well, she shared as much of herself as she could.

“Oh… Mom.” He was reluctant. “I didn’t realize what time it was.”

“Henry, where are you?” she asked him again. Because she hadn’t gotten to the part of do you realize what time it is? That would come a little later.

“I’m here,” he told her quickly. “I mean that I’m in the building.”

In the building…

“I’m across the hall, at Killian’s.”

The damn next door neighbor…

“Henry, what are you doing over there?”

It was instinctual, each step. Her feet were nearly flying across the floor on her way to the door. She wanted to know his reasoning, but it was even more important to get to her son.

“I’m not doing anything, Mom,” Henry answered quietly. “I was just hanging out.”

“Henry, I don’t know him!” Emma exclaimed, her eyes widening in sheer confusion. How did it ever cross his mind that this would be okay with her?

Her hand closed over the doorknob and yanked the door open. At the same time, she saw the door across the hall opening with a lot less urgency.

His hand went up in surrender, and he had a pleading look on his face. How dare he? How… dare he?

Emma could feel her heart beating out of her chest as she looked at her son. He looked okay. She just didn’t know. She couldn’t take it at face value.

“What in the hell are you doing, Henry?”

“I didn’t tell you, and I’m sorry, Mom,” he said, hand still up.

Her fingers closed around his hand, holding on firmly. She still didn’t know. Still didn’t know how to judge the situation.

“It was something to do until you got home,” he whispered. His eyes roamed across her face as he closed his hand around hers as well. “Killian let me come over and just hang out.”

So it wasn’t a one-time thing? He’d been hanging out in this stranger’s apartment?

“Henry, you don’t just hang out with grown men who you don’t know,” she chastised him. That was obvious though, wasn’t it? She expected more from her son. Was that just a bad judgment call on her end? How?

“Emma, I’m sorry.”

Her head flew up and past Henry to see her neighbor walking up to the door.

“I was only trying to be neighborly.”

And did this man have the nerve to look contrite? To look as if he understood her anger and acknowledged it.

“Henry, please move over,” she told him softly. She didn’t wait for him to do so, but instead pushed herself into the apartment.

It was as if the view she found herself in stopped her dead in her tracks.

The layout, it was the same as her own apartment. It was only the mirror image. The living room straight in front of them, the kitchen to the right, the hall leading off of the living room would have taken her back to the bedroom, possibly bedrooms, and the one bathroom. It wasn’t that.

It was what he’d done with the apartment.

It was completely furnished. Why had she expected nothing more than a chair or a couch, and not the complete living room suite? Why had she expected the bachelor across the hall to be a bit on the nomadic side with sparse living arrangements to match?

But it was more than the homey demeanor of the warmth that radiated from throughout. She hadn’t expected the artistic flair. And it was very artsy. Paintings hung from the wall, drawings were framed and held a place on the tables.

The dual feeling of awe for the man in front of her and the feeling of disbelief for her own excuse of making a home hit her strongly. She hadn’t expected the apartment to be made into a home. She had expected….

He was supposed to be… broken. Like her. This didn’t look broken. This looked as if the cocky smile and piercing blue eyes had been justified. That his life was made up of the things he wanted. Yet…

It didn’t matter.

“Number one, I don’t know you and you don’t know me,” Emma ticked off, standing right in front of the man. Firm and resolute were her words. Firm and resolute was what she was in that moment.

She didn’t like the way he looked past her and the way he wore a small smile on his face. She liked it even less when he crossed his arms over his chest when he looked back at her. And she certainly didn’t like the way his eyebrow lifted just a hair or the glint that she saw in those blue eyes.

“Number two, you are a grown man who has no reason to be hanging around a child without the permission of his parent,” Emma continued.

“Mom.”

“Henry!” Her admonishment to her son was quick. She was his parent!

“Henry?”

It was her neighbor’s calming voice as he spoke to her son that threw her off. When she would have turned and scolded her teenage son in front of this stranger, his voice had stopped her.

“Your mom’s right,” he continued.

There was a truth that rung from his words. But Emma still didn’t like the way his eyes fell over her. It was as if he was cataloguing bits and pieces of her. He was looking at her too closely.

It was uncomfortable. It made her want to shut her eyes as if to shut him out. She needed her door. She needed to put those two doors between them.

“Henry, go home,” she said, turning around to look at him.

“Mom, it’s not a big deal,” he tried again with persistence. His eyes were wide, close to pleading as he watched her.

“We’ll talk about it at home, Henry.” It was firm because that’s what she needed to be in the moment. “Go across the hall now and get ready for dinner. Now, Henry.”

He bit down on his lip and his eyebrows closed together. But he was looking past her. He was looking at him.

“Killian, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make her angry with you.”

“We’ll straighten it out, Henry,” she heard him assure her son. “Go ahead and get home.”

It was with a scrape of teeth over lip and a hesitant eye for the both of them that Henry finally moved. He backed away towards the door slowly. She saw how his mouth opened to say something, but he hesitated. And instead of trying again, he was quick to turn around and escape through the door.

The brush of skin to the palm of her hand had to be imaginary. But she wasn’t sure because the tingle that definitely ran through her could almost be called a tremble…

She was as quick as Henry had been to turn around.

They had already been close, but it seemed as if he was even closer now.

“Who is hell do you think you are?” she whispered hoarsely, staring up at the calm and collected face.

She’d never been this close to him. And never for this long.

Emma still didn’t like the way he looked at her. She didn’t like that he took his time in measuring every bit of her.

He shook his head slowly, those eyebrows going up sharply.

“I’m just your neighbor,” he told her softly.

“And that gives you the right to invite my son into your apartment without my knowing about it?” If she sounded incredulous about his weak answer, it was only because she was.

As if he could be any closer, he had the nerve to take a step towards her.

Emma wouldn’t back down. She wasn’t afraid of him. But there had been a heat being created in that small space between them. And…

It annoyed her to no end.

“I’m only getting to know the boy.” It was a smooth whisper with words so matter-of-fact. He moved even closer then, his face inching closer to hers. “As much as I like it, I would love to get to know the mom as well.” This time the touch wasn’t so imaginary. This time, his fingers reached for just the tips of hers.

The nerve!

It was the last straw is for Emma. She yanked her hand back at the same time she stepped away from him.

“I’m not the enemy here, Emma.”

Did he think he had a right? Because he said her name as if he had a right. As if he knew something about her. And he didn’t know anything about her.

She felt the walls. She felt them shooting up around her. She felt the need to close herself off from this person who had tried too hard to define her.

She stepped back- back away from him.

“Are you trying to use my son to get to me?” Because that’s what it sounded like. And it made her feel just a little bit sick. This man. God!

“All I’ve ever done was try to be a positive influence on your son,” he answered. “He’s home alone for a couple hours a day. I’m here, usually working and such. Sometimes my brother and sister-in-law are around. We’ve only been nice to the lad. That’s all.”

He spoken each word as if they were as clear as day. As if each word made sense, and she needed to accept the fact that he’d been the good guy in the situation.

“Just do me the favor of staying away from my son, okay?”

His eyes squinted down at her feet, watching the steps as they slowly separated them from each other.

“I can respect the fact that you don’t know me well,” he said cautiously.

Maybe he realized that his words hadn’t had the effect he had meant for them to have. It sounded so careful that it almost made Emma laugh. She liked him even less now than she had before.

“I’m offering you the chance to change that.” Her neighbor took a huge step, closing the distance between them once again. “Make a friend, Emma. Your son has. Stop being so closed off.”

His words made her stop dead in her tracks. What had Henry told him? What had he gotten her son to say about himself and about her? Why had he used those words? What made him define her as being “closed off?”

It was insecurity after insecurity that claimed her mind.

She didn’t like that he was forming ideas about who she was. She hated the thought that Henry may have been helping him form those thoughts.

“I’ve only been an outlet to the boy in way of giving him something to do while you were away Killian whispered. “Do you really want me to close my door to Henry?”

“Just stay out of my way, please.”

She didn’t give him a chance to respond. She turned on her heel right then, her eyes growing wide again, and raced for the door.

“Emma Swan!”

Her name was called out, and she may have read frustration in that voice.

Her heart was pounding. How had she not notice that before?

She slammed the door behind her, quickening her feet and her hands to reach the other side of the hall and her door.

He wouldn’t have followed her… At least she didn’t think so.

Her head turned back to look at that door. No, he wouldn’t follow…

She willed steady hands to open her own door, and she pushed her way through, slamming it behind her.

What had Henry done? What had made him go over there and become friends with a total stranger? What had he shared about her to a man who looked at her as if he caught glimpses of something beyond that surface?

“Mom?”

Emma moved away from the door, her eyes searching out Henry because of his question.

“I can’t believe you, Henry.” She shook her head over and over, truly perplexed. “What would ever make you go into some strange man’s apartment? And, apparently, over and over again? Don’t you know better than that? I know you know better than that.”

“Mom, Killian’s a good guy.” He was watching her closely.

He was calm, and it didn’t surprise Emma. He thought he was right. And just as she had known, he did know better than to put himself in such a bad predicament. He’d done it because he believe it. He had believed that the man across the hall was someone to be trusted.

“If you thought that it was okay, then why didn’t you tell me about it, Henry?” she asked him, moving over to reach for him.

“I didn’t think you were ready.”

It was the way he looked up at her. It was the way he had made a judgment call about what she could handle.

“You made it seem like you didn’t like Killian…”

Emma contained the eye roll that had wanted to come at her son’s words.

“He is a good guy, Mom,” he continued. “He works for the Boston Globe as a staff writer. He also writes for an online paper, too. It’s political stuff… And he’s an artist, Mom!” His eyes lit up at that one. “Did you see any of the drawings? They are his! He’s awesome! So he works at the newspaper and he draws! Mom, he knows things that I’m interested in. He’d help me with my photography. He wants to.”

She hadn’t seen Henry light up like that in a long time. Not over something like this. But…

Emma didn’t know how to trust it.

“Henry…” Her head shook again, and she felt the way she was being torn. “I… don’t know.”

“You could always get to know him, too, Mom,” he reminded her. “He’s a nice guy. So is his brother and his sister-in-law.”

There was a pause… because she still didn’t know.

Emma grabbed his hand and pulled him away towards the kitchen.

“He likes you.”

Henry’s words had almost made her falter…

“Did he ask you about me? Because if he asked you about me, doesn’t that tell you something, Henry?”

And he nodded. “That he likes you.” He smiled, but it was dismissed just as quickly. “We haven’t talked about you much, Mom, but I already knew that he liked you.”

It didn’t make her feel any better. It made her feel a bit off-balanced.

“I don’t like him, Henry.”

He looked up at her then, his face clear of anything.

“I think you will. If you let yourself.”

Emma let him go, her steps becoming smaller and letting him take the lead into the kitchen.

What had her life become? What was this?

Because he had touched her… He had looked at her if there was something to be seen. He had looked at her and not been automatically cut off by the blind wall she’d had up.

And she still didn’t like it.

Emma rolled her eyes then, the feeling of depletion taking over her.

This wasn’t over just yet. And wasn’t that just perfect?

 

****

She had lingering feelings about leaving him home again. She hadn’t come up with a definite answer on the friendship just yet. And even though Emma had explained to Henry last night that she needed more time to make up her mind about it, she wasn’t sure if he saw that as a greenlight. As if he would have no issue in going back over there, today even, when she was still at work.

Walking to the door, she’d almost stepped on the sheet of paper that was in front of it. A note? That had been pushed under the door.

And she knew instantly.

Emma knelt down slowly, hesitant to even have to deal with this so early in the morning.

Just get it over with…

_Emma,_

__

__

_We’ve seemed to have gotten off on the wrong foot. I want to correct that._

__

__

_Henry and I have become friends over this past month. I would love it if_

__

__

_you’d like to try to be at least civil as well. So here is my contact info. You_

__

__

_choose which way you’d like to figure this out._

__

__

_Killian Jones._

__

__

 

Emma pulled the door opened, the letter crumpling in her hands. He’d left her with a phone number and an email address. It was supposed to be her choice how she wanted to make this neighbor thing work out.

She only threw a cursory glance at the door across the hall as she passed by.

She didn’t know if she could possibly be any more annoyed than she was right then…


	6. Chapter 5

“Did you hear that?”  


“Hear what?”

Killian dropped his foot from the porch railing, letting his chair fall back to the floor. His ears pricked at the sound of the door closing.  


Where did she have to go that was going to lead her to cross his path on this beautiful Saturday afternoon?  


“It’s Emma,” he muttered, glancing over at Liam. “She’s getting ready to come this way.”  


“And how do you know that it’s Emma and not the lad instead?” he asked, sounding quite curious at his brother’s conjecture.  


“Henry left out earlier,” Killian said with a shrug. “I didn’t hear or see him come back.”  


There was only a tiny smile on Liam’s face. One that Killian knew instantly was the milder version of what he was really feeling.  


“You’re an idiot, little brother.” His words were full of laughter, but honest. “This is all your fault.”  


Killian knew where he was going. He’d heard the words too many times in the past couple of weeks. And hearing it again?  


“You should have cleared it with Emma before you took it upon yourself to become friends with her son. You could have gotten yourself in a lot more trouble other that an even more pissed off neighbor.”  


“Liam?” There was a part of him that itched to stand up. She would be heading out of the door any second.  


“What?”  


Liam’s amused face only made Killian amused.  


“Shut up.”  


He was sure that the smile would have turned into a huge grin at that. But he couldn’t pay Liam any more attention.  


He sat straight up in his seat as he listened to the door open onto the porch. Her reaction to him was always the same, no matter what his own approach was to her. So he sat there, trying to decide if he wanted to continue to look straight ahead or if he wanted to brave the icy chill of her gaze.  


Beautiful green eyes that would be clouded in loathing? Well, that was an easy enough decision.  


Her posture was rigid. But there wasn’t a need for stiffness in her limbs as she quietly crossed the porch. Both hands were flexed and just as rigid as the rest of her  
“Good afternoon, Ms. Emma Swan.”  


Killian saw the tightening of her shoulders as she took the first step off of the porch. She didn’t turn, so he hadn’t had the pleasure of seeing those eyes. But he could imagine the way she had probably rolled them, because the annoyance from behind was just as clear.  


From behind…  


She had a beautiful face. She had a gorgeous figure that he liked to admire whenever she looked at him. But this was a usual viewpoint, from behind. And he liked it as well.  


Emma didn’t work weekends, so her business attire in place of casual right now was a bit interesting. There was just a hint of leg peeking out from underneath the black pencil skirt. Hm„, the cream-colored side-tab coat helped cut quite the figure from behind, too.  


Emma threw a look that could only be considered as contempt back their way. And, he was certain, the quiet hello that she bit out was only at the aid of being socially correct.  


She didn’t even give him a chance. She gave him nothing at all. And it surprised him to know end.  


“And when I say strike one…”  


Killian turned to look at Liam then, finding his eyes following Emma on her way down the porch.  


“I mean major strike one.” Liam looked back at him, a smile on his face.  


Killian pulled in his bottom lip, sucking on it hard as he looked back at her.  


She’d given a toss of her head, the blonde waves moving across her neck and over her back. But those steps were still as stilted as ever.  


It wasn’t just because of him. He may have had his moments. He would be the first one to agree with the fact that he’d messed up in a major way in handling the situation of Emma Swan. But her need to put herself in a bubble wasn’t only because he was more of an unknown versus a known. No, it went beyond him. And that… wasn’t fair.  


Those eyes deserved to have a glint of positive mischief in them. Those pink lips deserved to be bruised and puckered by a well and thorough kiss. Those hips that were being hugged by the material of that coat deserved to be hugged by big and capable male hands. Preferably his capable hands. Pulled snuggly against his body.  


“Do you think that you should put this one out of your mind, Killian?”  


Liam’s question put a frown on his face. Because looking at her now, watching as she slipped herself behind the seat of the oddly complementary yellow Bug, there was no way that he was ready to give up on this one. Not when he’d made no headway in the least bit.  


Was he dense? How in the hell had he been so naïve to the real world to have done what he did? From day one he had saw the way she had guarded herself. So, of course, she reacted to his befriending Henry by going head to head with him.  


Okay. Granted. Strike one.  


It was a real shame. Although they still spoke, because Emma hadn’t come up with a definitive affirmative on him hanging out while she was away, Henry felt the need to toe the line. And Killian, for the most part, was on board with that himself. But he did like the boy. He was his mother’s son, with a bright mind and a good eye. His interest in photography had been a surprising one. And one that should have been nurtured.  


“I’m not ready to put this one out of my mind,” he muttered to his brother. He threw a hand haphazardly out in her direction. “Look at her, Liam. The game doesn’t end at strike one, brother. I’m not out of it just yet.”  


“When did you BECOME A glutton for punishment?” Liam asked softly.  


Killian looked back at him and he saw the brightness of his eyes.  


“I’ve made some… missteps,” Killian admitted slowly. “Talking to Henry is definitely a misstep that I seem to be paying for. But I was getting the icy look before.”  


“And what does that tell you, Killian?” It was lax, just as Liam’s position in the chair became as he leaned back.  


“It tells me that…” His smile was sudden as he thought about possibly getting through that icy wall. “I have to work just a bit harder. Listen. Emma had Henry. There’s something underneath there. It’s just something she’s chosen to keep hidden.”  


The sound of the engine trying and failing to turn over once and then twice drew his attention down towards the driveway.  


“Like I said: glutton.”  


“I like to think of it as having a strong will and persistence.”  


It was the pensive look on Liam’s face that made Killian wonder what he was thinking. It was the pursed lips as he peered out in front of him. But then again, Killian did know his brother. And it wasn’t so difficult to read the mind of the older man.  


But…  


“She’s still sitting out there.” Liam gave a nod in the direction of Emma.  


And she was. The car hadn’t moved. The engine hadn’t even turned over.  


“Do you think…”  


Before the question was even asked, he watched as Emma Swan’s door opened again and she popped out. The door stayed slung open, and it was with a determined glare in her eye that she walked the length of car until she hit the front.  


“I think she may need help.” He was slow to stand up from his seat, his eyes taking in the woman as she lifted the hood of the car. “Knight in Shining Armor, I’d say.”  


“Or something like it.”  


Or maybe not… Because this Emma Swan pushed the mop of falling curls back over her shoulder and peered straight into the contents that were found under the hood. If she knew anything about cars, it wouldn’t have surprised him. The dirtiness of the job of just looking under the hood hadn’t even phased her.  


“Come on.”  


He didn’t wait on Liam, but he heard his footsteps fall on the steps behind him.  


“As long as you don’t make a complete fool of yourself, Killian. She doesn’t look too inclined on you butting in on her life.”  


Killian only threw a quick glance back his way.  


“You have another suggestion on how to change that?”  


Liam only shared a look of doubt with him. And Killian didn’t understand what it was about her that made him so cautious. Or have such little faith in his brother’s abilities, or lack thereof.  


He felt the excitement building up inside of him. He imagined the same look of disdain to be on her face as any other time she set eyes on him. And he was going to have to change that. One way or another.  


Killian looked back at Liam just once more, seeing that he had closed the gap between them. And he still wore the look of caution that had been there before.  


It was with a smile of his own that he turned back towards Emma. He had sensed the stiffening of her shoulders again. No doubt she had heard them come up behind her. No doubt that she was already squaring herself up to dismiss him with ease.  


“Need a hand, love?” Because he thought that maybe demure was the way to go. Something soft. Something easy.  


She took a moment, but he heard the sharp intake of breath. It wasn’t until she turned around that he was privy to her eyes narrowing on him.  


“Seriously?”  


Of course that was her response. Of course she looked at him as if he was the one thing that was the basis of her total annoyance.  


“We noticed that you were having a problem, and all we came over to do was offer you a spot of help. That is… if you’d like.”  


She made getting to know her a challenge. But, as he saw the hardening of her every part of her that was visible, it wasn’t enough to deter him. It was in those eyes. They may have been guarded, but by God, he could see behind those eyes.  


Killian felt the smile falter. It wasn’t because of the stern appearance she was giving. It was because there was a strong and palpable need to get past it. There was a need to see her let down some of that toughness.  


She was more than that. Wasn’t she more than that.  


It was going to take dedication and focus. It was going to take time.  


Emma looked passed him, her gaze finding a spot behind him.  


“I haven’t had the chance to make any introductions,” Killian said, remembering that fact himself. “This is my brother-“  


“Henry has told me about you,” Emma cut in. An eyebrow raised just for his brother. “Liam? Right?”  


“That’s right.”  


Killian moved then, taking note of what was all under the hood of the small car.  


“He also told me that you and your wife are expecting,” Emma continued. “Congratulations.”  


It was her voice. Odd. Killian peeked back her way. And the smile he saw on her face was small but quite genuine.  


For Liam of all people? That was an intriguing bit of discovery.  


“Thank you. Yes, we’re in the later stages of it all.”  


She didn’t do easy. So why now? Why did she offer his brother a smile that she had not been able to offer him?  


But it faltered. The smile fell from her face and there was a twitchy movement that brought her hands together. All the more intriguing.  


“We can help you,” Killian told her again, turning the focus back to the matter at hand. “If you’d like.”  


Would she ever look at him without the disdain in her eyes? Would it ever been a look of ease in her eyes for him?  


Killian couldn’t explain the pull he had for her past the fact that she was a gorgeous woman and her guard gave clear indication of wanting to be left alone. But he couldn’t have been the only person in the world who could see that there was more.  


“It won’t start.” It was mumbled under duress, he was sure.  


But it was a start…  


He felt Liam move up from behind him before he, too, peered at the car.

“I can give it a look.”  


“Fine.” Her consent was nothing than a grunt of consent.  


Emma gave them both a quick look before moving back to the other side of the car.  


“It was fine earlier. I don’t think it’s anything major. It better not be anything major.”  


Killian watched as Liam seemed to peer even closer, his eyes running across each compartment.  


If he had to be honest, then he would admit that Liam was the stronger of the two in the repair work of vehicles. Killian would be able to spot certain small issues, but Liam probably would get to them quicker. And since his brother seemed good with tinkering about…  


“It may just be a loose spark plug.”  


“There’s a loose spark plug?” Emma was moving back then.  


The frown on her face as she pushed her way between the two of them wasn’t what caught his attention.  


She’d never touched him before, but suddenly her firm hand was pressed against his arm.  


He’d barely touched her hand before. That time she had stormed into his apartment and went all mother hen on him. He had listened to her, had tried to reason with her, and had not been successful. He couldn’t stop himself from admiring the fire in her or the strong show of love for her son, but it didn’t stop him from admiring up close all her attributes that he was getting up close with.  


And, again, he was invaded with just a tiny catch of her scent. Sweet.  


“Killian?”  


He hadn’t had the chance to muse any further…  


“Yeah?” And he ignored the twinkle in Liam’s eyes as he waited.  


“Get behind the wheel and try to start it up again. After I check this. I’ll tell you when I’m ready for you.”  


Killian was slow to move, catching Emma’s eye. The fact that she didn’t look right away was something to marvel at. Who cares if it was a wary glance. It didn’t even matter that she looked at him as if she was thinking how positively useless he was in the whole situation.  


A loose spark plug? He could have found the simple problem of a loose plug. And yet she looked at him as if he would have been just as content from his seat on the porch.  


Still, he offered her one of his more dashing smiles and a quick wink of his eye.  


“Is this going to take much longer?” Emma asked, turning swiftly away from him. The question was aimed at Liam, as her arms crossed over her chest.  


“If it’s just the plug, then no it won’t.”  


Killian swung open the door of the Bug and pressed himself down in the seat.  


It would be easy to take offense to her show of disinterest. But he wasn’t.  


Was it just him? She hadn’t been so cold and distant to Liam. Why was that? Was it a reflection more on himself or on her? It could have been that she had formed an awful first impression that first day. How, he really didn’t understand. But it was probable. But if it was her… If it was just the way Emma was, then it only proved of the many layers that were certainly present in the woman.  


“Emma?”  


He wanted to know more about her. That wasn’t a new revelation. But the time had arisen. If only she would be willing to entertain his notion.  


“Emma?” Killian said her name again after seeing the all too familiar hitch of her shoulder. “Emma Swan?”  


He watched as her tilted just so. With her not facing him, her face was a matter of his imagination.  


“Yes?” It was a tight one syllable word. But he could work with that.  


Killian braced his hand on the steering wheel. “Is this going to be us forever?”  


“And what does that supposed to mean?” Perturbed. Annoyed. Beautiful. Lovely.  


“Listen…”  


She fidgeted about again before she finally turned back towards him.  


Killian wondered if she knew how beautiful she was. Because she was… a gorgeous woman who he needed to know more about.  


“I wanted to apologize to you again,” he told her. And he hoped that it had come off sincere. It was supposed to be sincere. “I know that you don’t know me well at all, but we are neighbors. I know that you knew me even less at the time, but… I… I was only trying to be a good neighbor when I invited Henry over.”  


“So you want to go through that again?” Emma’s scowl was one of condemnation, showcased by the flutter of her lashes.  


“Well, you haven’t given me the chance to make things right,” he pointed out, thinking of the fact that he’d left the door open for her to do so.  


“And I already told you.” Her eyes were steely. Her words were firm. And they were meant to push him away.  


Killian didn’t get pushed away so easily.  


“Ok, Killian.”  


At Liam’s affirmation, he only gave a quick glance at her before he reached for the key that was hanging from the ignition.  


This time the engine roared to life, signaling a job well done by Liam at the other end of the car.

“Oh my God.”  


Liam slammed the hood of the car, shutting it securely. Killian saw the lift of his lips, a small smile place there, from through the windshield. He moved then, leaving the engine running and stepping out of the car.  


The distance that Emma had put between herself and the car was surely due to the fact of the men who were still there. Their purpose had been filled, and she was ready to put space between them again.  


“Thank you.”  


Was that another elusive yet genuine smile on her face? And all for his brother.  


“It was no problem at all.”  


Did she do it on purpose or was he purely just scum? Because what had Liam done, other than hook up a couple of loose plugs, that had deemed him worthy of her smile and her congeniality over him?  


When she moved, her steps were cautious. She would have to walk past him to get to her car. And he wondered if that was truly an issue…  


Killian gave her her space, giving her room to walk passed him.  


It was only because Emma looked at him. He would have let her go if she hadn’t looked at him.  


“You’re an intriguing woman, Ms. Swan.” It was meant for only her ears, and only when she was close enough.”  


It made her stop in her tracks. It made her turn on him, giving him a once-over.  


“What about me is intriguing?”  


Maybe she’d heard the words before. Maybe she was use to some disingenuous people in her life.  


Killian had her attention. For a brief moment, it wasn’t because of something hostile. This time it was due to a need to read him, he was sure of that. To pick up any trace of what lie might fall from his mouth.  


“Besides the fact that you brushed me off for no possible good reason?”  


That earned him a roll of her eye. And perhaps the chance of losing her in that moment.  


“What about Henry?”  


It wasn’t his ace in the hole. It might have even been a sore spot for her, but he only had what he had.  


“What about Henry?”  


It happens quickly. The way Emma is ready to shoot him down. The way she closes herself off completely to reasoning.  


“Well if you got to know me some, then maybe you wouldn’t be so against the fact that I let your son check out some drawings that he’s interested in. He has an artistic eye.”  


“My son is interested in photography.” Emphasis on her son. “Not photojournalism. So as far as I am concerned, you can’t help him.” She made her move for the car again, brushing by him without concern, but with a hell of a lot of barriers up.  


Killian heard the short laugh from his brother, and he frowned at him. With a shake of his head, he listened to Emma as she closed the car door behind her.  


“Thank you.”  


Killian glanced back over his shoulder that time.  


“For the assistance,” she tells them. But it is hollow. It is not genuine. And maybe that was his fault.  


Killian smiled. “What are neighbors for?”  


There was no answer for that question…  


At least she didn’t tear out of the driveway. Emma backed out of the driveway. He’d consider it being civil.  


It doesn’t leave him not perturbed, but actually even more intrigued, watching the car slip out onto the street.  


As if he could no longer hold it in, Liam burst out in laughter. And maybe that finally did leave Killian feeling somewhat agitated.  


“What is so funny?”  


His eyes cut back to his brother, and he saw the way he grabbed at his stomach.  


“I think that we can consider that as strike two, aye, little brother?”  


And Liam had the nerve to laugh even harder that time. A good and hearty laugh at Killian’s strikeout with Emma.  


“Strike two,” he muttered, although not ready to concede to that decision fully. But there was no doubt…  


He’s an idiot for not having cleared things with Emma before striking up a friendship with her son, He undoubtedly screwed everything up now. Or, at the least, made things a hell of a lot harder to break through.

****

It had been a while. Possibly too long of a while. And maybe Jessica had thought the same thing.  


Killian hadn’t made it a custom to let dates end on his end of things. It was always so much easier if dates lead to her place rather than his. It didn’t matter who the her was in question. It just made the how of slipping away a lot simpler.  


But his apartment had been closer…  


And it had been a while…  


Killian hadn’t liked the feeling of something in the pit of his stomach when he saw Emma’s car parked in the driveway. And it shouldn’t have mattered. Such an odd thought, as well as an odd feeling, to have.  


He hadn’t made much headway with her. His conversations with her had been limited at best. And as far as he could tell, she had no interest in him whatsoever.  


So what did it matter that he had the beautiful brunette’s hand wrapped around his arm as they made their way up to the house? It didn’t matter.  


The movie had been nice and even cozy. Dinner had been even better. It had all led to the possibility of a much needed nightcap. So…  


Killian offered Jessica a smile, along with a tempting and appreciative glace from head to toe.  


She was quick to smile back. She was quick to hug her body even closer to his.  


“I missed you. Killian.” The whisper was soft and sultry. Even more important, it was full of promise. Promise of a night that had started off so well and promised to end that way as well.  


“I missed you, too, love.” Missed the look of want in a woman’s eyes. Missed the warmth of a body next to his. Missed the ease of what was to come.  


He pulled the door open for her, letting her pass through the hallway first. And…  


For a moment, just a short and quick moment, the stark white glare from the door across from his own caught his attention.  


She was in there. Emma and Henry both.  


Those damn eyes. That damn wall. If she only gave him the chance, then he would have tried to get through to her. He would have succeeded.  


His gaze narrowed on that door. His mind travelling and settling on the image of her lying in bed. Alone. All alone. And for far too long.  


“Killian?”  


Not the time. Not now. Not when there was someone so ready and so willing.  


Killian smiled at her again, small this time. Picking out the apartment key off of the key ring, he moved to open the door.  


“Come on in, love, and make yourself comfortable.”

****

The knock on the door was a bit surprising. He would have been out the door and off to work himself within the next few minutes. Which made a visitor unwarranted.  


Killian pulled the flash drive that was jutting out of the laptop and threw it into his bag beside him. It was one of the last things that he had needed to make sure to get done before he would walk out the door.

With tote in hand, he crossed the length of the room and only stopped to scoop the coat from off of the couch. He did a quick mental check list of the daily essentials, making sure he had everything with him.  


Mondays were probably the hardest day of the week just to get started. Especially after one of the nicer weekends. And this past weekend had not been disappointing…  


Jessica?  


No, she wasn’t the one. Killian was as sure of that as he was sure of anything. But it didn’t mean that he didn’t have fun with her. Thinking of the way he’d been awakened just that other morning… He had a lot of fun with Jessica.  


“Who is it?” Even as he asked, his hand was on the lock, turning it.  


“Henry.”  


Henry. If he had expected anyone, it wouldn’t have been the lad.  


Killian pulled the door open to see him standing there. He should have been off to school already. And he was dressed for the part, with backpack slung from his shoulder.  


“Henry.”

He looked sheepish, as if the decision to knock on his door had been a toss-up.  


Emma’s reluctance to even voice her opinion on whether or not it was okay for Henry to as much as talk to him had put a space between them. His door would always be open to him. It was just easier to keep the conversation at a minimum. At least until Emma came around. And lack of a better example to prove otherwise, it seemed like caution was a norm for the lady.  


“Good morning, Killian.”  


“Did you need to come in or anything, Henry? Because I was on my way to work.”  


“No, I don’t need to come in.” He stepped back then, giving Killian more space to move. “I was wondering, though, if… you could give me a ride to school. Since it’s on your way.”  


It made Killian smile. He looked back into the apartment, making one more quick sweep of the room. He had everything that he needed. He was sure of that. So, grabbing the knob, he stepped out of the apartment and closed the door behind him.  


“That’s not a problem at all,” he assured him.  


“Really?” Henry smiled. “Thanks, Killian. I know that my mom hasn’t said anything to you about being okay with us being friends…”  


“Did she say anything to you?” Killian was quick to take his key and lock the door behind him. He wanted to be facing Henry when he answered. He wanted to know if he would be able to give any insight on his mom that he himself wasn’t privy to.  


“Not much,” Henry answered truthfully.  


It wasn’t the answer that he wanted. In any case, it was one that he should have expected.  


Killian watched as Henry moved towards the door, following behind him. He was a good kid. Always respect. But it was more than that.  


In that time that they had spent together, Henry had proved to be a bright kid. An intuitive kid. One with a good eye and one with good attention to detail. It showed in the work that he liked to do. His interest in photography was unexpected, but proved to be an extension to everything that was him.  


Children. Hopefully somewhere down the line it would happen for him as well. Killian had never been in a rush though. Children meant first finding the one, as he liked to joke with Liam. But until that time, and who in the hell knew when that time would be, he would have to live vicariously through his brother, his sister-in-law, and the bump who would be named later.  


But it was the strong bond that was clear to see that Henry had with Emma that made Killian yearn just a bit. It had always been him and Liam. For it to be such an elite group, family had met everything to him. Having a chance to extend that family wasn’t in the cards. At least not yet. But, one day it wouldn’t be the random girl in his bed. One day…  


Why was he even thinking that far ahead? His head was filled with thoughts of Emma Swan. But it was her mystique that drove his need, right? Nothing more. Not the thought of closing in on the one. Yes, her mystique.  


“I apologized to her, Henry,” Killian murmured softly, walking along with the boy at his side.  


Henry shrugged, his eyes on the ground in front of him. “I know.”  


Killian smiled again, his thoughts turning to something lighter. “You told me she was always so touchy. I haven’t been able to see that side yet.”  


Henry stopped in his tracks so that he could look up at him.  


“She’s not. She’s just… she’s cautious. You know?”  


It was as if Henry wanted to convey the message that there was something deeper there. And Killian had already came to that conclusion. He had already made up his mind that there was an internal struggle way down deep inside of her.  


“She has my number,” he told him softly.  


Henry looked at him again. “Yeah?”  


Killian didn’t know what to take from that. He didn’t know what Henry knew about her past interactions with people. He didn’t know if her having a way to reach out to him meant anything to Emma or nothing at all.  


“She hasn’t used it.”  


Henry only shrugged at that.  


“Henry?” It was soft. Cautious. Because he didn’t know why he wanted to share. He didn’t know how appropriate it was. With her son. Her young son…  


“Yeah?”  


He got the impression that he approved. Maybe he was reading the boy wrong. But he found himself to be a good judge of character.  


“I need you to give me her phone number.” Killian’s smile was quick, the idea popping into his head and taking firm root there. “I want to work things out with her. Waiting for her to take the next step may lead to another month. So…”  


He looked hesitant, but there was more to it than just doubt.  


“I like your mom.” Killian hadn’t meant to be that honest. He hadn’t known how well that would go over.  


Henry smile was small, hidden partially by his glance over at the car.  


“I think that I’d like her even more if she gave me the chance to get to know her better.”  


Henry nodded. “Okay, Killian.”  


He didn’t know why his heartrate had picked up speed, but it had.  


Killian nodded himself, but he looked curiously at the boy beside him.  


“Okay then.”


	7. Chapter 6

**Wednesday 1:25p.m**

****

****

 

_I try and I try, but I honestly don’t think I’m getting anywhere with you._

__

__

_**Who is this?** _

_****_

_****_

_I’m wounded! Does that mean you didn’t even save my number? Make me a promise first._

__

__

_Wow! Nothing?_

__

__

_You’re a challenge, Emma Swan. It’s a good thing for me that I like challenges._

__

__

_**How did you get my number?** _

_****_

_****_

_I’ve been waiting patiently for you to use mine for a while now. All to no avail._

__

__

__**I’m going to take a wild guess that Henry gave you my phone number. I’m going to try really hard to not be angry about that. What do you want?**__

_****_

_****_

_To move on from whatever this hostility is between us._

__

__

_I’m a good guy, Emma. You can trust me._

__

__

_Henry can trust me._

__

__

 

**2:52p.m.**

**  
**

_**I’m over it.** _

**__**

**__**

 

Ahh! Just when he had just about given up all hope, there dawns a new ray of light!

Killian rubbed a hand over his cheek slowly, his thoughts running far and wide as he slipped the phone into his pocket.

She’d taken her time. Had she been doing a silent debate with herself of how much she could trust his words? For some reason, it was the wide-eyed, ready-to-run Emma Swan that he had imagined. The one who had turned on heel and escaped from his apartment to never return.

She’d actually texted him back…

That had been a pleasant surprise unto itself. A surprise that he would silently celebrate.

 

****

 

**Thursday 1:29p.m.**

****

****

 

_There’s a new contest that the Globe is sponsoring for students grade 8-12. A photographer forum that has different subject areas. Might Henry be interested?_

__

__

_**It’s a hobby. And a new one at that. I don’t know if he’d enjoy being in a contest.** _

_****_

_****_

_I can send you a link with all the information._

__

__

_Or I can tell him about it when he gets back to the apartment, if you don’t mind._

__

__

_**You can send the link. I’ll see what he thinks.** _

_****_

_****_

 

 

Emma threw the phone down on top of the fabrics that had made a nice pile of the floor.

Her day was far from over, and she had a lot of work to do.

Her arms encircled the petite female mannequin. Dressed in her warm creamy brown sweater, it was the khaki trench coat and matching scarf that would be the star of her outfit.

Moving across the room, she paused for just a moment. One brief second, to let her eyes travel…

This was the second day in a row that he had texted her. She felt it in the palms of her hands, this nervousness. It was instinctual, for her at least, to want to question both interactions. To question her own part in it.

Pulling the mannequin back to a standing position, she brought her hand up to her face to have a look. Damp, of course. She wiped one hand and then the other down the front of her pants.

Stupid overreaction to the simple act of interaction with a man…

Emma shook her head, stopping herself from thinking about… anything other than work. There was a whole display that was in shambles that had to get put up before she would even leave today.

A long day.

A lot to get done.

 

 

****

 

**Friday 1:56p.m.**

****

****

 

_I’ve been meaning to ask you something._

__

__

_**What?** _

_****_

_****_

_I know that you know what I do for a living, but you never shared that bit of information about yourself._

__

__

_**Just what exactly HAVE I shared?** _

_****_

_****_

_It’s always a question with a question with you._

__

__

_**Is that a complaint?** _

_****_

_****_

_Funny! I’m curious._

__

__

_Care to share?_

__

__

_**I’m a visual merchandiser.** _

_****_

_****_

_**What did you do? Google it?** _

_****_

_****_

>It’s better than Googling you, don’t you think?

__

__

_You set up displays and such? What store do you work for?_

__

__

_**Display is one part of it. And definitely not all of it.** _

_****_

_****_

_You’re not going to tell me which store you work at, are you?_

__

__

_Ah! I’m guessing you have a bit of an artistic flair yourself! I like it._

__

__

 

 

**3:17p.m.**

****

****

 

_I don’t want to ruin this delicate balance that we have going on, but since the weekend is coming up I thought that I’d share._

__

__

_I have a story that’s taking me out of the city this weekend. When you don’t see me around, it’s not because I’m trying to keep this delicate thing we have going balanced._

__

__

_**It would have been my absolute first thought.** _

_****_

_****_

_That’s what I figured. I wanted you to know that I wasn’t ignoring you in person._

__

__

 

 

**3:47p.m.**

****

****

 

**Politics, right?**

****

****

 

**4:03p.m.**

****

****

 

_Yeah, that’s me. There’s a political roadshow that’s going on, for lack of a better term._

__

__

_Henry’s home._

__

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_**I know that.** _

_****_

_****_

_What I should have said is that I saw him._

__

__

_I talked to him. He said that he liked the idea about the contest. That he was interested in the “natural world” category._

__

__

_**Is that supposed to be my opportunity to say thank you?** _

_****_

_****_

_What is ever wrong with showing a spot of gratitude?_

__

__

_**Thank you.** _

_****_

_****_

_Why do I get the feeling that it was only so quick and easy because we aren’t face to face?_

__

__

_**You ask a lot of questions.** _

_****_

_****_

_All the better to get to know you, Ms. Emma Swan._

__

__

 

“We have a problem, Emma.”

Belle’s sweep into the room was accompanied by a shake of her head and a sigh.

Emma dropped the phone in her pocket

She had said that they’d had a problem. But Emma counted that among her other problem.

Why was her heart beating so fast at the mere distraction of Belle entering the room? Why had it caught her so off guard when she had been doing this back and forth thing with the man from across the hall?

It was better to keep men out, in any form possible. He’d already showed interest in her in a way that she was comfortable with. And now here she was, holding these conversations with him.

It didn’t matter that it had seemed easy. More than seemed. It had been easy. Just to talk. Just the back and forth.

It wasn’t good.

“Creative differences between the designer and management,” Belle informed her. “And the designer is going to win out.”

“Which means?” Emma asked. But she already knew exactly what it meant. She felt the weight of a major re-haul build up on her shoulders. It was already after four o’clock…

“It means that we’ll have to start basically all the way over,” Belle confirmed. Her chin fell to her chest as her eyes fluttered closed. “We can either pull an all-nighter, just to get the ball rolling, or we can come in early tomorrow morning, a Saturday morning, and start then. Emma?” She looked back at her then, a hopeful look on her face.

“Yeah?”

“I vote for an early morning start if that’s okay with you,” she told her softly. “If we can, then I promise to go over designs on my own time later this evening. I… had plans that I wanted to keep. I’m willing to come in on a Saturday morning for a few hours in exchange that my evening isn’t ruined. So… what do you say?”

The hope in her eyes was too hard to miss. But it was the fact that she had plans that Emma had gotten stuck on. She couldn’t help but wonder what her plans were. What did Belle want to do that was more important than working out the setbacks of the project?

Emma mentally shook her head. There were thoughts that were trying invade her mind. Thoughts that weren’t positive. Thoughts that were going to drag her down. And if anything was going to drag her down, it was going to be thoughts of how half a day’s work had been for nothing because they were going to have to start over. But it was a part of the job. It happened. Too often for her. But… a part of the job.

“I’m fine with coming in early tomorrow,” she told Belle. Her hands fell to her hips. “As long as we finish up today with some prep work.”

Belle’s smile was bright and grateful. “I have absolutely no problem with that.”

“Maybe Henry will want to come with me,” she murmured to herself. “I’d rather not leave him home alone for so many hours.”

There would be no one to check up on him since her neighbor…

She froze automatically, instantly confused and annoyed by her thoughts.

She didn’t know him. He wasn’t anybody to her. Not… Just because Henry had seemed to gravitate to the man didn’t mean anything either. He was a kid. A kid who saw his father just a quarter of the year.

It was as if every single doubt she’d had about the man had risen up inside of her all at once. And all because of what? The mere thought that if possible, it would have been okay to leave Henry home for a few hours because there would have been a responsible adult not far away?

A life that wasn’t riddled with doubts and second thoughts. That’s what she wished her life was like. But, of course not. This was her. This was Emma Swan: guard up and never quite trusting.

She’d had years to perfect the quirk. So why dwell on it now?

“No time like the present, huh?” Emma sighed, her hands falling to her sides. “Let’s get started.”

 

 

****

 

 

Emma knocked on Henry’s bedroom door before she opened it. She hadn’t waited for an invitation to come in, feeling quite confident with the fact that he wouldn’t have any problem with the fact.

“Hey, Mom.”

She smiled at him, but it faltered as she saw the iPad sitting in his hands. It was possible that he was doing one of many things, but the chatter that came from it told her that it was one thing in particular.

“Are you Skyping with your dad and the kids?” she asked in a whisper. Not that it had mattered, because if he was Skyping, then they would have clearly heard him greet her.

“Oh.” Henry looked down at the iPad. “Yeah. It’s just dad around though.” He turned the iPad around quickly, and she became witness to her ex more suddenly that she was prepared for.

“I can see your legs, but… hello, Emma. How are you doing?”

Henry chuckled at that, and readjusted the camera. “Better, Dad?”

“Better.”

“I’m doing great,” Emma told him with a smile. “Hi, Neal.” Her eyes found Henry’s again. “You can have him back now.”

It was with a big smile on his face that he turned the pad back around.

“I just came in to see if you want to go to the movies tonight,” Emma told him. “I have to go to work tomorrow, unexpectedly. So we can get in some time together tonight. What do you think?”

He was quick to nod. “Yeah. Sounds great.”

Emma couldn’t help the way her eyes slid back to the iPad. To where her ex was.

“Go ahead and finish up with your dad,” she said softly. “I’ll check out the listings, come up with a couple, and we can pick from there.”

She didn’t wait for an answer from him. She just wanted to get out of the room. Just needed to step away and be in her own space. Alone.

Emma closed the door behind her, pressing her back to it for just a moment. She could still hear both of their voices.

What was it? Her smile was mirthless, because she knew. It wasn’t as if she and Neal had a bad relationship. Not in the least. If there was ever a civil divorce, it was their divorce. But…

It was the visual of seeing him. It was one thing to picture the happy family that he had made in Tallahassee. It was something altogether to witness it. It was one thing to think about the relationship that had started spiraling downward. It was something else to see upward swing that Neal had had from it.

And it was always so easy to read it on his face. It was always so easy to hear it in his voice. He hadn’t forgotten about Henry. He had made sure to make his firstborn just as much a part of the family as the rest.

It made it easier to see who was… not at fault, but…

How could she put the blame anywhere else about her failures than right there at her feet?

Perfect. Her mood now, when she had wanted nothing more than to enjoy an evening with her son, was now sullied.

Failed. Failing. Will fail. It was her past, her present, and her future.

Now…

How to get over the deep-seeded feeling so that her son was none the wiser.

She moved then, her steps SLOW and moving her down the hallway.

 

 

****

 

 

**Saturday 10:54p.m.**

****

****

 

_I’m going to call you._

__

__

_**Why would you do that?** _

_****_

_****_

_I want to hear your voice, Emma Swan. Now I do understand that I am again risking this delicate balance that we have._

__

__

_**What does that supposed to mean?** _

_****_

_****_

_I’m risking you shutting down on me. I’m risking the regression to those times we’ve met in person. I’m risking you having nothing but contempt for me. Again._

__

__

_It hurt a bit. Right in the heart. I have a huge heart, Emma. And you got me right there in the center of it._

__

__

_**It’s late.** _

_****_

_****_

_Not late at all._

__

__

_**For me, it is. I’m in bed.** _

_****_

_****_

_Pillow talk._

__

__

_Well not exactly._

__

__

 

If she was honest with herself, she would have admitted that she had thought about him that day…

Emma bit down on the inside of her cheek as she looked at the ringing phone in her hand. He’d been right. So why was he calling? She felt the scale tip towards discomfort with every passing second. Right when the scale had been barely passed level, towards the positive side even. And she had seen it as a positive.

It was difficult living in a bubble. It was difficult feeling the inability to connect to others on a personal level. Every important past encounter had ended so… tragically. At least that was the affect it had on her.

It had been the simple conversation. Just a couple quick words. A total of probably two minutes total out of her day- the time to read a text and the time it took to respond to that text. But it had been the delivery of the whole thing. Very informal. Very comfortable.

It had been nice… eventually. It had been something to look forward to. Damn, it had only been four days! And it wasn’t like she had went the entire day wondering if he would keep to their scheduled time. It had just crossed her mind…

Damn! It was the man from across the hall for God’s sake! It was the man who had tried to… bond with her son without her knowledge. It was the man who had tried, unsuccessfully, to bond with her as well. And that was when the queasiness entered the equation.

It wasn’t that he had been different in this situation- through text messages. She guessed that he was right about something: it had become a delicate balance. Texting was easier. Texting had allowed her to be not so guarded.

Emma didn’t always want to be guarded. She’d just had so many years of great practice at it. Her guard being up was a protective shield. It made it easier to block out the people who were no good. There was a reason why she didn’t open up. It was because men had their own agenda. The heart and the hurt of a woman didn’t matter. That part was expendable. It was just that she had very little room in her heart for hurt anymore. She was already too broken for that. Hadn’t the situation with Neal just showed her that?

What did he want with her? She shouldn’t trust it. Shouldn’t trust him. He was one in the same. The man in in the text messages was the man from across the hall, who was the man calling her. And the man across the hall hadn’t been… horrible. But her defenses had went straight up at day one. So wasn’t she supposed to trust that instinct? Not trust him. Like everyone else. But…

It was everyone else. So…

They were one and the same: man across the hall, man in the text messages, man on the phone.

The ringing stopped in her hand. It hadn’t been a conscious thought to let it go to voicemail. She’d just had so many other thoughts in her head that answering hadn’t even been a priority.

Maybe that had been a sign. Maybe she had become too comfortable over the past few days. Maybe it was best if she stopped. Right. There.

Emma felt the breath leave her body, having just then noticed that she had been holding it.

The tension came back at one when the phone rang for a second time…

One and the same…

Calling twice, huh?

Her thumb slid over the bar, connecting the call. And this time she noticed exactly when her breath stuttered.

“Hello.”

“You answered.”

The voice over the phone was reminiscent of the voice she’d heard in person. The automatic tension caused by worry and distrust had bubbled to the surface.

“You called me twice. Seems a bit much too me.”

His laugh conjured up his cocky grin. Hm…

“Ms. Emma Swan.” It was thicker over the line. But it was just as assured as she remembered it to be. “Can I ask you a question?”

“What is it?” She cleared her throat quietly. She had heard the stiffness in it. That could be a dead giveaway.

“Well, this is assuming that you finally got around to saving my number,” he said slowly.

“What?” Where could he possibly be going with that?

“I was wondering… what name did you use to add me to your contact list?”

Her eyes squinted and she slouch against her headboard.

“What?”

“You see, your number is saved in my phone as Emma Swan.” There was a smile in his voice. She was sure that it matched his face. “So I wondered what am I stored as. Because, to be honest with you, I have never heard you speak my name.”

It made the wheels in her head turn. Her neighbor. She always referred to him as her neighbor. He had noticed. She hadn’t even noticed that fact.

“I know your name,” she whispered.

“Oh, no doubt, love.”

Did he just call her…

“I’m just waiting on the day I hear it fall from your lips.”

He was making her nervous. Maybe this was too much. Maybe she liked text messaging over everything else.

“Emma?” It was soft. It had a soothing quality to it. There was something that was missing. Or maybe something that was added.

“Yes?”

A short pause. Before…

“How was your day?”

Maybe….

“It… was fine. My day was fine.” Asking him how his day would be appropriate. It also furthered along conversation. She didn’t feel queasy, but strange. Too strange. “How was your day? How was work?”

There was another pause. It made her want to know what he was thinking. Why had he called? Other than to hear her voice.

“Uh, tracking down politicians to speak instead of leaving it up to their representatives.” A short laugh. “Just another day out of the office.”

“Well it was another day in the office for me,” she said softly. Emma’s eyes darted across the nearly bare bedroom before they finally stopped on the wall straight ahead.

“You worked today? On a weekend day?” He sounded surprised, but easy. Was he always easy?

“I thought you Googled my working conditions,” she whispered.

“I actually like to get my information straight from the source,” he confided in her. And there was something about his voice. Something genuine.

Wasn’t she a good judge of character? Hell, yes! So why was she letting her defenses down? There was a part of her that wanted to hang up in his face and bury herself under the covers. And, yet, there was another part of her that needed to act her age. She was a grown woman. Not some kid. Yes, she’d been hurt. But she was an adult who knew how to act that way.

“Sometimes plans change and we accommodate for those changes,” she told him. “I’m usually good for a forty-hour work week. Sometimes it can be more.”

“My schedule can be flexible, too.” He said it with a sigh. “I like freelance work. I like the online edition of the paper as well. It gives me the opportunity to not be stuck in the office so much.”

He was easy. But it was different from the way he was in person. Was that a good thing or a bad thing? Was there a façade to him as well? Or had it been that damn guard that she always had up?

It wasn’t supposed to be easy with him. It wasn’t easy with anybody.

Emma listened to him talk. She listened to the way he explained about his job. She listened to him speak of his brother, Liam and Liam’s wife, Ruby. And she smiled at the way he referred to the baby as “the bump.”

She asked, albeit timidly, about what he had shared with Henry. She admitted that she had been surprised by the amount of art. And maybe it had been an opening to get to Henry and even to her.

She listened as he tried to assure her that he believed her son to be a great young boy with a good head on his shoulders. And he apologized again for the misunderstanding. Single mom and all, he got it. Believe him, Liam had called him an idiot far more times than he could count.

Henry was still a subject she wasn’t completely sold on. It was just them. She needed her son to be one hundred percent safe, because he was all she had.

She told him, with caution, that she’d enjoyed her work since the time she divorced Henry’s dad. How she had lived in and around Boston for most of that time. How she considered herself nowhere near as artistic as he seemed to be, but there was definitely an artistic flair than was called for the job.

It was later, after he’d said her name again.

“Emma?”

There were things that she needed to remember: she was more than a little broken, and something inside her had said to be leery of him.

“What?” Caution was good. Always good.

“I must say that I like you, Emma Swan.”

Had he expected her to swoon in her bed at the words he’d used? She hoped not, because….

“What is it that you possibly like about me? You don’t know me.”

It was a personal pet peeve of hers. She wasn’t one of those women who dropped at the canned phrases that were always used. She didn’t want them. She didn’t need them. She hated them!

“If you haven’t notice, Emma, I am getting to know you.” The way he said it left no room for interpretation.

A few minutes of exchanging personal information didn’t mean…

“I have to go now.” That was her answer for him.

“Okay.” Just as soft as anything else he’d said to her. “Just one last thing?”

“What?”

He laughed. “Will you tell me goodnight? Will you say my name, Emma?”

Her eyes blinked once, twice, three times.

“What is with your obsession of yours to hear me say your name?” It was odd. It wasn’t just her. It was an actual oddity.

“Make me feel like a… human being.” It’s not what she’d expected in answer.

“Good night.” It was more of the point that he’d made the request as to why she wanted to deny it. And another point was that… she’d never said it. Hadn’t known why. But she’d never said it…

“Killian.” She felt the quickening of her heart. And decided that she hated it. “Good night.”

“Good night, Emma,” he- Killian- whispered.

Emma pulled the phone from her ear and promptly disconnected the call. It was only then that she noticed the amount of heat that was radiating from it. How long had they…

She refused to believe the amount of minutes that had ticked away.

Absolutely. Refused. To.

 

 

****

 

31:17

The number blinked at him for all of one second, but it seemed to have magical properties to his body. But even more than that had been hearing her last words.

Killian. Good night.

He’d almost not made that call. Had known that her reaction could go either way. But…

What he said had been true. Killian had wanted to hear her voice. He had saw the way she had loosened up to him. If he made a move too soon, the she would close in on herself and put him back in some category that he knew he didn’t fit it.

The fact that she had listened and had seemed to be fairly interested was a nice point. It was her ability to share with him, though, that sealed the deal.

He couldn’t wait to see her again. He didn’t mind going at this speed. He didn’t mind that it had taken her, in this particular order, to open up to him. The point was that it was happening.

It was the knock on the hotel room door that had finally pulled him away from his thoughts.

“Damn.” The curse was bitten out. He’d nearly forgotten. Had forgotten. Had gotten happily distracted by Ms. Emma Swan.

Killian was quick to move towards the door. At this time of night, it was only one person.

“Morgan, love.”

Morgan Callahan, so pretty and petite. And, oh how did the bare legs peaking from underneath the three-quarter coat promise something enticing from underneath.

“Killian Jones.” Her light voice was full of sensuality. “You haven’t been back to Springfield for quite a while. I’m so happy to see you.”

If that bit of tongue was any indication…

“Are you going to invite me in or what?”

“Morgan, please…” Killian took a side-step and opened the door wider. “Join me in my room.”

He watched with an appreciative glint as she did just that. And there was nothing that wasn’t enjoyable about getting to see that view.

“I’m glad you told me about your plans, Killian. It would have been such a boring Saturday night if you hadn’t.”

She turned then, offering up another smile.

“Well I’m glad you were able to make it,” he assured her. “Who knows what my night would have been like if you hadn’t.”

“Oh, sure.” That smile turned all-knowing.

Morgan.

The call had been made before Emma. Long before he had texted her. Long before the half-hour conversation had consumed him.

But here he was. And here was Morgan.

One day, and maybe one day soon, things could be different. But for now…

“Let me help you with your coat, love.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't hate Killian! He really does like Emma. He's so ready to know her and to be close to her. Bur remember, he's always been a bachelor. And one who doesn't know when he'll settle down. He has not been exclusive with a woman in forever! And he has a couple of girls he sees whenever the chance comes up and when he is in the mood for it.  
> Emma will definitely be the one to put a stop to this casual thing. He's going to fall hard!:)


	8. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I was so happy with all the feedback on the last chapter. You know you guys feed my muse. Which is probably why this 7,000-word chapter is up only like 4 days later.

**Tuesday 1:44 p.m. ******

 

_I’m going to need your email address._

__

__

_**Why? _ ****_**_

_Because it’ll be a hell of a lot easier to bombard you with the hassles of my job. I won’t feel so bad about needing to send a 1000 + character message. ___

_**Are you having one of your days? _ ****_**_

_I love American politics. I really do. American politicians are completely the best at getting around any and all types of utter BS. ___

_**When did you move to here? To the US I mean. And how in the hell did you even get into politics? _ ****_**_

_We’re full of questions today, aren’t we? ___

_**You texted me… _ ****_**_

_As far as my career path, I think that deserves a face to face conversation. Did you get the hint rolling around in there as well?_

__

__

_But Liam and I came over when I was 18. And THAT would be one of those 1000+ character message things._

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_Send me your email address, Emma._

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_**Fine.** _

_****_

_****_

 

****

 

The pretty and intricately placed hanging décor was nice to look at. It was aesthetically pleasing to her eye, the designers’ eye, and most importantly the customers’ eye. It was the delicate, and sometimes precarious, setup to get everything looking so perfect. Depending on each and every facet, the job had its moments of needing extreme precision.

Watching the old display with a whimsical eye, and remembering the hours that had taken to make it nothing but perfect, Emma wasn’t sure if she was ready to get down to business of dismantling the work of art.

An artistic flair…

“Do you think that Friday we will get out of here at a decent time?”

Emma shrugged at Belle’s question, her gaze following the other woman who was up on the ladder.

“I don’t think that there should be any reason that we wouldn’t.”

“Good.” The word was murmured as she pulled hooks and pins from the dangling décor from above her head. “That’s good. Because…” Her turn was sudden, her eyes somewhat questioning. “I was trying to make plans.”

But what was new about?

“With Will…”

Emma felt the sharp intake of breath at the mention of the name. Annoyance with that fact gave her at least something to concentrate on other than letting her mind slip to…

“Emma, do you have plans for this Friday?”

And that question did surprise her.

“Friday?” Her eyes found Belle’s once again. “Unless it’s with Henry or for Henry, I usually don’t make plans. You…” She shook her head, focusing this time on the box on the floor just some feet away. They were going to need that box. For work. For what they were now doing.

“Well, that’s good!”

It was too cheerful. It was confusing.

Emma scooped up the mid-sized cardboard box that was only covered at the bottom with the same hooks and pins.

“Okay.”

She heard Belle’s laugh. “Oh, it’s good for a reason. I wanted to ask you something about getting together Friday night. To get you out of the house. I can’t really say to go out or anything, because we both wanted to invite you over to my place.”

“We?”

The whole conversation was coming off as odd. She’d known Belle for a few years as it was. And even though she considered her to be a friend as well as a coworker, their interactions didn’t usually go outside of the confines of work.

“Me and Will,” Belle clarified.

“Are you having a party or something?” If it sounded cautious then it was because she couldn’t help it.

That’s when Belle turned away from the job she was doing so that she could face Emma.

“Something like a small dinner party,” she said. But it was the way that she said it that made Emma question even that. The smile on her face was what sealed the deal on the caution. “Will has a friend. His name is-“

“His name?”

“His name is Robin-“

“Oh, God, Belle!” Emma couldn’t even contain the need to roll her eyes at the mere suggestion of what her friend was trying to do. “Please, don’t. Just please.”

She turned away from, shaking her head when she caught a glimpse of Belle making her way down the ladder. What had ever possessed her to even make the suggestion? She didn’t ask, not wanting to perpetuate the conversation for any longer.

“It would be the four of us.”

It seemed as if Belle didn’t need the encouragement to continue. She had no problem with keeping with her campaign.

“A nice dinner that I’ll do all the preparing for,” she continued. “And Robin is a really great guy, Emma.”

She couldn’t stop from shaking her head. This was just ridiculous.

“I haven’t heard you talk about a guy in… forever. So I was just thinking.”

“No.”

Emma’s mind was already spinning when she had turned back around to face the other woman. She shook her head again.

“No.”

But the damage was done. It should have been taken as a nice gesture. It should have put a shy smile on her face.

“I don’t date,” she told her softly. And she made sure her eyes didn’t give away any telltale signs. “You’re right. I haven’t dated in a long time. It… wouldn’t be a good idea.”

“But, Emma.” Belle sounded hopeful, as if trying to immerse some of that hope into Emma. “I think that he could be absolutely perfect for you!”

It’s soft and sweet. Just like Belle. But…

Emma shook her head again. “No, thank you.”

The fact that she was immediately apprehensive only made her feel worse…

“Are you absolutely sure about that?”

About herself.

She was broken. She and men didn’t work out.

“You have days to think about it.” Belle kept pushing, no matter how gentle the push was. But it didn’t change anything. At least not in the direction that she was hoping for.

It had now become a lot harder to keep up with the façade. There was a heaviness in her eyelids that made her have to work at keeping them lifted. There was a heaviness that seemed to creep through her bones, making her want to drop everything that she was doing and find a quiet spot away from the gentle pushing.

“It really doesn’t matter, Belle.” She said it without the normalcy that she could muster. “I’m not going to change my mind.”

“Well, if not this time…”

She had left it open-ended. Not that it mattered to Emma. It had already done its job. It had triggered something in her.

With the cardboard box in her arms and with Belle climbing her way back up the ladder, it was professionalism that kept her going. That kept her from running away to hide inside of herself. Because… The trigger had been just that great.

It wasn’t only the fact that being alone was the fate that she was dealt. It wasn’t only that past relationships had sealed her fate. The fact that even the proposal of being set up had proved something. Belle’s proposal had surfaced the fact that… she wasn’t worthy. She didn’t even feel worthy of trying to not be alone.

Emma looked up at Belle. The conversation had not affected her. It was work as usual.

She was going to need a moment. A minute. To…

“Belle? Belle, I have to… get my phone. Okay? Is that okay?”

“What?” She was only half paying attention, already back to the task at hand.

“I’ll be right back.” Emma told her. The box was already out of her hands and down to the floor.

“Oh. Yeah. I’m fine here.”

“Great.” Because she wasn’t.

Because instead of being okay, Emma was plagued by thoughts of failed relationships. Failed relationships that had been her fault because she hadn’t known how to be open. Relationships that had ended because she had not known how to give more of herself.

Graham had loved her. He had really and truly loved her. He had been open. And had only wanted her to be that way, too.

Things between them had been far too easy in some aspects, and far too difficult in others. Why did she feel the need to keep him her little secret? Why hadn’t she been able to share her life with him?

He had wanted things she couldn’t give. It had been six months. That was too soon to meet Henry. Henry was… indispensable. She had really cared for Graham, had loved him, but there was always going to be a need for caution.

He had said that he had understood. But what about sharing parts of herself? It had been funny at the time. What did that mean?

When it was good, it was really good. Caring and compassionate, that was Graham. And she hadn’t meant to keep him at arm’s length. She hadn’t even noticed that his simple request had a deeper meaning than the words themselves. How was she supposed to know that if he asked her to spend just this one night with her, that the refusal was putting a darkening spot on them? How was she supposed to know that backing away from the smallest displays of affection when others were around would make him doubt in her? If only he’d said something sooner…

The talk had come too late. It had come after he’d already made the decision that this just wasn’t right for him.

Emma had cared for Graham. Damn it, she had loved him. In her own sheltered and guarded way. But it had been too late. Too late to fix what was broken in her.

So if her relationship with Graham had proven anything to her, it was that her worthiness of love was nonexistent. And it had only been back up with the evidence with her relationship with Walsh.

So…

Belle had been wrong. She had been terribly wrong.

He wasn’t perfect for her. When it came to relationships, when it came to men, perfect for Emma Swan was synonymous with alone.

The sooner she realized that, then maybe the sooner the heartache over her reality would become. And then she wouldn’t be forced to run from every damn situation.

 

 

****

 

She wanted nothing more than to sink down in her seat until they left the porch. Or better yet, she wanted to already be inside of her home before this family get together had already started. What she didn’t want was to have to walk past Killian Jones and his family. She didn’t want the looks or stares that were bound to be there. She didn’t want him to smile at her or wink at her, as if there was a shared secret between them.

The thought of backing out of the driveway and leaving for a short drive had crossed her mind as she had pulled up. But Henry was at home. He had been home alone for over an hour now. And all she really wanted to do was be home.

It was with a fierce determination for herself to be an adult in the situation that made her get out of the car. She just needed for him to take one look at her and note that she was not in the mood for his eyes and deep timbre of his voice (that really did have a slight difference from that of his phone conversations).

Emma could feel the way her heart began to beat a little faster. It was from the pressure that she was putting on herself. She was making something out of nothing at all. It was all in her head that Killian wanted more than the simple text message slash late night phone call sessions.

He had become an outlet to breathe in those situations. Who would have known that she was so in need of what he had offered her? Their conversations, text or over the phone, had the ability to break through the intensity of her day. And never let it be said that most of that tension had come from pressures she’d put on herself. She liked it. She could even go as far as to admit that she appreciated the interesting friendship that they’d attained. She could admit to liking him.

That didn’t mean that it had transferred into something more. It didn’t mean that looking at him, now, meant that she saw that same man. Face to face. Personal. Emma understood. She knew they were the same. But… it was different. And as all the tension seeped into her shoulders and her neck, she offered a stiff nod to both him and the woman, Ruby, on her way up the steps

“Emma Swan.”

Her name as way of greeting slowed her steps. She turned to look at him. He’d been standing at the far end of the porch. And he stayed there. He hadn’t tried to bombard her into putting two and two together. She knew it was the reason for some of that tension to melt. But only slightly.

“Hello.”

“My apologies, love.” It was directed to his sister-in-law. Not her. “Emma, this is my sister-in-law, Ruby.” His hand was thrown out at the woman, who was already moving from her seat with an extended hand.

“Ruby, this is Emma.”

Her smile was genuine, and the glow shone through without a doubt.

“Hi.” She tried to make it normal. She strived for congeniality and social norms. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Ruby’s hand was soft, small, and warm against hers. Close to eight months pregnant, she was one of the lucky ones that seemed to carry all in her middle. The glow seemed right, even without the plumpness of her face.

“It’s nice to meet you, too,” Emma told her.

It seemed to only make the glow all the more prevalent.

“We’ve heard a little about you is all,” Ruby continued.

“Ruby.”

It had been a warning, clear and simple, coming from Killian.

Emma’s eyes raised to him, seeing only the slightest movement in him.

“His old neighbors were… old.” Ruby looked back at him, too. “That’s fair to say, right? So to have someone to connect with was a nice addition.” She slipped away from Emma then, turning fully around. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Please forgive my sister, Emma.” The mutter was accompanied by the slide of his eyes onto her. A slight raise of one brow and an innocent smile crossed his face. “She seems to think that it’s okay to say whatever comes to mind with little regard. It’s only gotten worse in the past few months.”

“I know you’ve seen me and Liam around a lot,” Ruby said, looking back at her. “That happens. So you shouldn’t be a stranger. I’d love to get to know you.”

Emma had listened to the exchange. Had listened as they talked to each other and had listened when they talked to her. There was a genuine quality to them both, and to their relationship, that came across. And maybe a little too strongly.

Ruby was looking at her, waiting and anticipating the response she was supposed to give. And Killian…. She noticed then just the way his eyes had begun to take in parts of her. As if he knew her. As if he had the right to admire something in her. And it was…

Too much.

Emma’s mouth opened to speak, but it was her legs that did the moving first.

“Thank you.”

She didn’t make friends easily. Even that type of relationship made her put her guard up. Friendliness could sometimes have the opposite affect that was originally implied.

Ruby was… a part of Killian. Attaching more parts of herself to him was… It had to be a conscious effort on her part. To be mindful of what she was doing.

“I’m sure I will continue to see you around.” Emma offered a smile to the pregnant woman, whose hands slipped over her growing belly.

She’d been pregnant. It had been so long ago. But it was that simple instinct that Ruby had had that sent her back there. When life had been really good. When she had been married and had loved and had been loved. So long ago…

“I have to get it and check on my son right now,” Emma continued. “So maybe another time. It was nice to finally meet you.”

Her eyes slipped past Ruby to glance back at Killian. Just for a second.

“Talk to you soon.”

She nodded at that, and was quick to turn back towards the door.

He hadn’t pushed…

Slipping through the door, it had been her first thought. He hadn’t pushed. Their encounters had been brief in the weeks since they’d exchanged that first text message. She always expected him to… to be different from the one she talked to on the phone. And yet… in this instance…

Emma shook her head. She didn’t want to think about it. She didn’t want to compare and contrast the scenarios.

“Emma.”

The voice had snuck up on her. It had surprised her as she stood facing her door to open it.

“Liam, hello.” It was with a brief turn of her head that she saw him closing Killian’s door behind him.

“How are you doing?”

He wanted to be cordial. He wanted her to take a moment to acknowledge one another. And all she wanted to do was to go inside her own apartment.

Emma turned then, saw the smile on his face for her, and the way he held his hands together out in front of him.

He wasn’t his brother, but she saw more and more of the similarities. She’d liked him from the beginning. She really had. It must have been the quiet demeanor. Maybe it was the strong and silent persona that went along with it. Maybe it had been the ever-there twinkle in his eye when he was with his brother. Then again….

Maybe it was because he was safe. There had been no need to question his motives. Not with the ring on his finger. He was a married man, with a baby on the way. A seemingly happily married man with a baby on the way, who wouldn’t have a hidden agenda at being personable with her. Maybe that was it…

“I’m fine,” she told him. “I’m really fine.”

The doorknob behind her was beginning to turn then, the door opening for her.

“Hey, Mom.”

Or maybe not for her. She watched as Henry bound from inside and out into the hallway.

“I’m going to go out front with Killian, okay?” He was already moving, and had only glanced back her way. “He said that I should wait until you got home, just in case. But you don’t care, do you, Mom?”

Her son had found something in Killian that was a little peculiar to her. But boys needed men, right? His father was away, and he had found someone else to connect to.

She wanted to sigh out all of her wariness. Her life… What had it become?

“That’s fine.”

And she saw the smile grow, and tried not to feel any certain way about it.

“Hi, Liam.”

“Hi, Henry.” There was a smile in his voice as he watched her son leave. Watched him leave to hang out with his brother.

“I… need to get inside, Liam,” Emma told him, wanting to shake her head but stopping herself. “I’ll see you around.”

“Emma?”

She had already turned, had been able to see her haven right with her own eyes.

“Yeah?” She was wary about turning back to him.

“Killian told me… that…”

She didn’t even want to know where this was going.

“You two are getting along a lot better than before.”

And even that made her beyond curious as to why Killian felt the need to share anything about her with the people in his life.

“Yeah, well-“

“He likes you.”

Liam had cut off her attempt to sweep the friendship under the rug. Like it didn’t matter. Like it hadn’t been a bright spot on many days just to talk to someone like him. But Liam’s words had stopped all of that.

“Yeah, well.” She didn’t stop the need to roll her eyes that time. “I don’t know what exactly he likes about me, Liam.”

His smile was soft and warm as he looked her over.

“I think he likes a lot about you.” His answer only made her doubt… everything. “Killian’s my kid brother. He lives his life more of the freer side of things. He’s a really great guy whose priorities have been all over the place.”

“Liam.” His name left her mouth slowly and with a lot of confusion. Where was he supposed to be going with this? “Why are you trying to tell me any of this? What is that supposed to mean to me?”

His smile grew, and he took a step that brought him closer to her.

“He likes you, Emma. And it’s been really good to see what liking you has done to him.” He lowered his head, his eyes meeting the floor beneath them. “I’ll see you around, Emma. Have a good day.”

And it was with those words that he turned away from her. It was then that he made his way back towards the front door.

And it was with those words that he’d left her, leaning against the threshold, with more thoughts than she’d ever want running around in her head.

 

 

****

 

 

**9:22p.m.**

****

****

_I picked up this book that Henry left out front, just in case he realized he’d misplaced it._

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**9:57p.m.**

****

****

_I brought it inside. Left it outside your door instead of hoarding it._

__

__

 

**10:29 p.m.**

****

****

_Okay. You’re ignoring me._

__

__

_What happened?_

__

__

 

The shower hadn’t been enough. She should have opted for a steaming hot bath. Something she could have soaked her entire body in as she tried to lose every piece of the tension that had built up inside of her.

There were four text messages that were sitting in front of her from that night alone. She had done very well to ignore every single one of them…

It had been too much. She hadn’t expected it. Hadn’t expected to form a bond with the man across the hall. And that is who Killian Jones was: the man from across the hall. The man who had access to her on too many levels. 

She should have never….

 

**10:40p.m.**

****

****

_Emma?_

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__

 

She can hear his voice through that text as clearly as if he’d said her name. She can see the concern marking his face.

 

_I’m going to call you right now. Answer, okay?_

__

__

 

All she wanted to do was separate the three entities again. All she wanted was for “text guy” to be different from “phone guy” and for them both to be different from “guy across the hall.” If they were all separate, then feelings for one could be separate from the others. Because all three together was too much.

Emma listened to the phone ring beside her once and then twice. It wasn’t fair to him to start ignoring him again. But it wasn’t fair to her to be slammed with a variety of feelings coming at her from all sides.

Liam had said Killian liked her. Why hadn’t it crossed her mind that Killian was all three of those entities? Why hadn’t she put it together that her ever growing friendship and bond with two parts of him could lead to including that final part? Especially when that final part was such a large part of the man himself. It encased the mental, physical, and emotional. There were ways to have parts in the other two realms of reality. But that last part? There was no way of getting around the total entity that was Killian Jones.

It wasn’t fair to ignore him.

But it wasn’t fair to be made into realizing everything about what was going on, all at once.

Emma picked up the phone, and wondered was it really the weight of the damned thing or was it the lethargy of her arm that made it feel so heavy. She slid the bar across the screen and watched with lowered lashes as the call connected. It took a moment- just one last moment- for her to bring the phone to her ear. To connect with him.

“Hello.”

“What’s wrong?”

She wanted to hesitate. No one understood her. No one got how her life was. No one could know how solitude her life was because of the fact that she was damaged. She was a damaged person who had been burned too many times. A loser in not only love, but also in life, because she had never been good enough.

So why did he text her? What made him call her? Why did he waste his late nights talking to her? Why did he look at her as if this time was different? Men… men were all the same. And she’d rather live her life alone than to go through the façade someone put on just to get closer to her, for whatever reasons they may have.

He wanted to know what was wrong with her?

“Nothing.” Because it didn’t matter.

“Then… why were you ignoring me?” The concern in his voice was growing. She’d said a total of two words, and yet his concern was growing.

“Because I don’t text you back right away then I must be ignoring you?” She asked it with a laugh. A laugh that have very little meaning for her.

There was a pause on his end. It was because he was weighing out her words. And Emma had known that instinctively. She could see the way he caught his lip between his teeth and the way his thumb skimmed over her chin.

God! She needed it all to stop! She had gotten too close for her own comfort.

“Not because you didn’t text me right back,” Killian murmured. And she heard the sigh from the other end. “It’s because you are at home and I know your routine. I know that you’ve been out of the shower for at least an hour now. And I know that you are your bed right now and would be close to falling asleep if not for us being on the phone. That is… unless something is wrong. If something was wrong, then you would have looked at my messages each time they came in and promptly ignored each one. Now it may have made you feel a bit awkward in doing so. I guess it all depends on what exactly is wrong. So…”

He’d left it open-ended. But there was so much to process even before then.

The fact that he knew her routine had gotten her heart to speed up just a little. It was scary to think that in the long weeks that they’d been getting to know one another, it had come to a point where he could pick up on her cues. But it was even more startling to her heart that, if she let herself think about it, she would be able to do the same for him. She could see the nightly ritual that would eventually lead to their phone conversation. She could see it all to clearly.

And it made her nervous. It made her nervous to put each component of him together to make one man. It made her nervous to know that that man was not someone who she should have or no longer look at with total caution. Because… honestly…

“You’re a nice guy.”

His laugh was that deep and rich laugh.

“Does that surprise you?” His voice had a teasing silky quality to it.

But the teasing didn’t make the fears stop growing. It didn’t stop her need to process all of the information that had been new to her.

“It does.”

It wasn’t only that he was a nice guy. How was she supposed to trust that? How was she supposed to trust that when she was used to not trusting anyone? When her world had proven that mistrusting was always the lesser of two evils.

“Well, that’s just because you didn’t want to see it.” It was teasing again. “Emma, that’s not it.”

He didn’t know her. That is what she wanted to keep believing. She needed to believe that their conversations hadn’t meant more than having something to do at night. And during the day. Or sporadically when she was at work. But…

There had been an intimacy between them that she hadn’t put a name to. There had been a connection that she hadn’t realized that had been made. Until…

“Killian?”

“You’re about to shut down.” Good perception. “Emma, don’t shut down on me.”

It was what she wanted to do. It was the only thing that seemed right in this situation. To close herself off from everyone, and especially him. To dig herself underneath the covers and stay there until it was a must that she got up. By that time, then she would have been able to put back on the face that said she was okay. Then nobody would be any wiser to the truth. Just her.

“I have to go now,” she told him. “I can’t do this over the phone with you right now.”

“Then don’t.” It was something about the way he said it…

Fine. She didn’t need someone to hold her up. She did that all on her own. She had been doing that all on her own for years now.

“Let’s talk in person instead.” It was firm and resolute. Not surprising. “We’ll do a neutral place. I won’t come to your apartment. You won’t come to mine. Meet me out on the porch, Emma. In two minutes. Meet me outside.”

The nervousness was spreading. The feel of damp palms only…

“Don’t overthink it.” He’d cut off her thoughts. Had, of course, known her.

Emma didn’t know what had prompted her. Maybe it was his conviction.

Her eyes swept across the room, not focusing on anything in particular.

“Fine. Two minutes.”

 

****

 

“You said neutral, but to me this seems like all you.”

How many times had she seen him there on that porch? It had been the bulk of where their encounters had taken place. Other than that, they’d only met in the hall. This spot brought up memories of who he was. The family guy. It was always him and his brother. And his sister-in-law.

He was watching her. Leaning against the railing of the porch, he was watching her as she stood just outside that door. It was the same as it had been earlier that evening. He was far away, not too close. He was watching her, but not leering in a way that would have made her cautious. But maybe that in itself made her wonder and cautious.

“It’s definitely neutral,” Killian assured her softly. “Common area and such.” His head angled slightly, his eyes still on her. “I must say, Emma, that you look rather adorable.”

The comment made her glanced down at the flannel pajamas that she was wearing.

“Adorable?” She would have never said adorable. The fact that he’d commented… If she’d known that he would… It wouldn’t have changed anything. It wouldn’t have made her take thirty seconds of those two minutes to look at herself in the mirror to double-check. Nope. Not at all.

“Adorable,” he confirmed.

The smile that had broken across his face had frozen there. It was small. And he was silent.

What was he thinking? Had this been the right choice?

Emma was slow to step away from the door, her eyes falling on the set of chairs that sat halfway between herself and him.

Killian’s movement was just as slow. He looked just past her as he stood straight up, his hand gripping the rail behind him. She listened to the breath leave from his mouth and the way he finally looked back at her.

“This is something new, huh?”

Who was he?

“I guess so.”

But Emma feared that she had a better idea than she wanted to believe. He was many things. Things that she’d discovered over a period of time.

She didn’t want to concentrate on any of that. She had a chance, right here and right now, to forcibly look at the situation. Not run. To look at it head on.

Emma crossed her arms over her chest and she bit down on her inner cheek.

“Thanks for the book.” Because that was easy. That was safe.

Killian crossed his own arms over his chest.

“No problem at all.” He leaned back into the rail then, the smile on his face all but an illusion.

This time, the glow of his eyes isn’t… as mistrustful. Or maybe it was her.

“Henry?”

It makes her raise an eyebrow at her son’s name falling from his lips- from Killian’s lips.

“He’s asleep?”

Emma was slow to nod. “Yes. He’s asleep.”

She watched as he was slow to nod as well. Their friendship. That was genuine. It had been okay to first question why he had befriended her son. But she had seen a truth between the two. It was difficult, sometimes, to think that anyone else should be close to her son. It had been a reason to keep him far from the other men she’d known. Henry was special, to her. So what did this friendship mean?

“We had a good time this evening.” His smile widened this time, and his arms unfolded. “I have this amazing camera on loan from one of the photographers from the newspaper. We got to take a few shots with it. He seemed to really like it.”

He encouraged a hobby that Henry had. He did more than encourage it. He pushed it to be something.

“Did he tell you about it?”

Her eyes blinked at the question, caught somewhat off guard.

“Um… no. No he didn’t.”

He nodded again. “Well at least I thought he had enjoyed it.” He bit down on his lip with that, his eyes dancing on her.

Emma found her head turning towards him, looking him over so closely.

Killian. He had all three entities working at the moment. And that should have been scary. It was a bit scary. And as he turned the subject, as he kept their conversation going light and easy (she knew why he was keeping it light and easy), she saw her thoughts turn again.

This was wrong. She felt exposed, standing next to him. It was one thing to do this over the phone. It was something else to do this with him standing in front of her.

He’d stopped, all of a sudden. Or she’d finally noticed the lull in voices and conversation. And she noticed how he’d stopped to watch her again.

“What?” Emma asked. It was full of skepticism. Full of doubt for the man in front of her.

Killian shook his head, that bottom lip poked out.

“I was just wondering.” It was soft, and his brows pulled together into a frown. “Just what are you thinking, Emma Swan?”

“Nothing.” She shook her head. “Nothing.”

There was another quiet moment, where nothing was spoken. There was only…

“How are you feeling?”

It reminded her of the first time he’d asked her that. Over the phone. She remembered the sincerity of that one simple question. Having it asked in front of her, being able to see the way he leaned in just slightly, the way his eyes pinpointed certain spots on her…

A mess. She was feeling a mess. But she couldn’t say that. Not to him.

“I’m fine.”

It was when he moved, when Killian had slipped even closer to her and away from the railing, that she felt even that slight glimmer of reality in her answer slip away from her.

This was wrong. She never should have come out her.

“Killian?”

His hand reached out and grasped her arm, letting it slip down until it held her hand.

“That’s the first time you’ve said it.” His eyes were an intense blue, which contradicted the smile on his face. “So don’t take away my sheer happiness of this momentous account by shutting down again.” His hold on her tightened, and he moved closer again. “Emma?”

Three entities rolled into one, right in front of her. And it was still overwhelming. Because her past and showed and told her what life was like. It had showed her what she was afforded. And it wasn’t the genuine man who was in front of her.

So who did she trust?

“I…”

“Want to run?” His fingertips smoothed over her arm until they laced together with hers. A slow gesture that sent tingles through every part of her. “Don’t run. Talk to me.”

Emma shook her head, her eyes staying on his. “This isn’t me. I don’t… have relationships like this one. And… I don’t… understand it.”

That smile remained through the slight twitch.

“I like you, Emma Swan,” Killian whispered, his fingers tightening in their embrace with hers. “And I think… that you just told me that you like me, too.”

Nothing had quickened her heart more than the words he’d said.

Liam had said…

Killian had said…

She hadn’t said, but… It was a new kind of tension, coursing through her body. A tension that hadn’t been there in a very long time.

“Emma?”

She pulled her hand from his, shaking her head again. And before she let her mind debate over what was right and what was wrong, and what she wanted or what she’d regret.

She saw the range of emotions that slipped over his face in that second, wondering what she was going to do. And she didn’t let that phase her either.

Emma let her hands run over his chest, coming in contact with a very hard and masculine body. Her eyes closed, refusing to think more than she already had about her decision. And as her arms wrapped around his neck and slipped to the back of his head, she felt his own arms slipping around her waist and pulling her tight against him.

It was sudden and immediate that his lips fell over hers. The instant regret made her eyes pop open to come in contact with nothing but closed yet sensuous eyes. The fell closed again at the strong and intense pull from way down deep at her middle.

It had been initiated by her, but…

Killian pulled her even tighter against him, his mouth sliding across her in a slow and intense kiss.

It had been years.

It was impossible to control the tremor. It was impossible to quiet the moan. It was impossible to not pull him even closer to her as his tongue slipped inside her mouth.

The need to squeeze everything in to keep from melting completely from the inside on out. The ache…

“Emma.”

The murmur came on the heels of feeling his hand grip in her hair.

It was never soft. Only hungry. Hunger drove her. A need to feel something again. And he had been willing. With open mouth and giving tongue and greedy hands.

That was before… Before she did let her mind enter the situation. When she let her mind begin to question how wrong this was and the need to protect herself, like always.

Emma’s hands found his shoulders and pushed him away from her, separating her mouth from his. Breaking free of the hold he and his kiss had on her. Humming body be damned. It was her head in charge again.

Killian looked dazed when his eyes fell on her, but he didn’t push himself back on her. A heaving chest rose and fell, and the lust was overwhelming his gaze now.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to start something I can’t finish.” She took another step back, widening the gap between them.

“Emma, don’t-“ His bottom lip was enveloped by his mouth as he watched her move again.

“It doesn’t matter that you like me or that… I… I…” She shook her head. “I don’t… do… this… at all. So…” And she shook her head again, needing to put her world back in order. Alone. She did things alone. And not with the messiness of feelings for someone else.

“Emma?”

She was still moving, but he’d not taken one step yet.

“I…”

“Say it, Emma. I just need you to be honest with me and say it once. And then I’ll be able to deal with this. For now.”

What did he want from her? She didn’t understand.

“What do you want me to say?”

It was then that he moved, taking a giant step that brought him close to her once again.

Emma stopped herself from immediately closing up and boxing herself in.

“Just tell me that you like me, too.” There was no smile, but an intensity that she believed she knew where it stemmed from. “Just tell me that you like me, too, and your leaving me out here won’t leave me dying out here without you.”

There wasn’t a part of her that wanted to admit it. Not now. Not when her mind and body were both spinning out of control. But at least there had been some honesty to it.

Did he deserve her honesty? Even when that honesty turned everything that she knew about on its side?

Her mouth opened before it shut tightly. The whole day played out in front of her in the space of seconds.

“I… like you, too.”

If a whispered confession hadn’t been good enough for him, if it hadn’t confirmed what he’d needed it to, then she didn’t realize it. Because Emma did the one thing that felt completely right to her. She turned on her heel and grabbed on to the closest thing to her sanity: the door that would lead her back home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are appreciated, if you feel the need to share!!


	9. Chapter 8

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_"Killian." ___

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_It was the way she moaned it against his ear. Or maybe his response to it was heightened by the fact that she said it so seldom. ___

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_"Killian." Emma's hands pressing deep into the muscles of his back. Emma's fingernails clawing their way across his shoulder blades and down his spine. ___

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_If she didn't stop… ___

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_No. He didn't want her to stop. It felt amazing. Her soft cheek caressing his bearded cheek. Her hands all over him. Her bare leg wrapped tightly over his hip… ___

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_Damn. ___

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_It was all for her. It was supposed to be all for her. And he had to remember that as her moan into his ear drove him even higher. ___

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_He needed her. When he slid his lips over hers and kissed her hotly, it was because he needed his lips on hers. He needed to feel her mouth open on his and the way she slipped her tongue inside. He needed that sweet response that she always gave. ___

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_And she gave it. She gave all of herself. ___

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Reality dawned on him slowly. When his eyes slid open, he became aware of how he was clutching one pillow firmly in his arms. The bedsheets were twisted at his waist and wrapped around his legs.

A dream.

Another dream.

About her. About them.

Damn it.

The dream was becoming a staple. A week filled with dreams that left him waking up to a body humming from his subconscious.

Killian was slow to flip over from his side to lay flat on his back. He stared up at the ceiling above him, his thoughts filling with memories of a dream. The smile on his face lacked any humor. This situation was far from humorous.

The dream had been far too realistic. He could have sworn that he could feel her mouth on his. And he knew that kiss. He'd kissed her once, but the feel and shape of her lips were ingrained in his mind. The sweet taste of her mouth was a memory that he wouldn't soon be forgetting. Her quiet moans and the way she pulled him into her.

_Shit. ___

Lying there with his mind running free with thoughts of what had happened and what he wanted to happen, he felt the immediate rekindled stirrings of his body following where his mind had lead. And being betrayed by mind and body? What in the hell could he possibly do to stop the inevitable?

The simple answer to his question: he didn't stop the inevitable. Instead, he closed his eyes.

He imagined her walking over to the side of his bed wearing nothing but a smile. He imagined that his primed and hardened body was more than ready to feel her slip herself right over him.

He had a few minutes, he was sure. And even if he hadn't had the time, he would have made the time. Because Emma Swan was the perfect dream. And until the day he had the chance to make it a reality- damn!- this was all he had.

**Wednesday 3:34p.m.**

****

**__**

**Hey.**

_****_

_**__** _

Hi. How are you doing?

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**I'm fine.**

_****_

_**__** _

**I wanted to know if you could do me a favor.**

_****_

_**__** _

Anything, Emma.

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____

**I already left a message on Henry's phone, but if you can, just check on him maybe once this evening. I have to work over, which is completely out of my hands.**

_****_

_**__** _

That's not a problem at all.

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**Thanks, Killian.**

_****_

_**__** _

We can do dinner.

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**You mean you and Henry.**

_****_

_**__** _

Yes, of course.

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_I think Liam may be around, too. You don't have an aversion to him having pizza, do you?_

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_**I think that he would like that.** _

_****_

_****_

_Okay._

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_**Okay. Thanks.** _

_****_

_****_

****

A week. More than a week. And she hadn't said one word about it. Hadn't texted one either.

He wasn't surprised that she hadn't mentioned the kiss…

Because if it was left up to her then she would subtract the physical part of their relationship right out of the equation. There was a part of him that could admire the lengths she went to to make sure that she never had to come face to face with him in the week that had past. But only a small part. Because he was far less inclined to continue only seeing her in his dreams.

**Friday 10:42 p.m.**

****

****

_All tucked in?_

_**That's one way to put it. I'm in bed. You?** _

_****_

_****_

_Same._

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_It was a long work day. I was in Springfield for most of it._

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_**I noticed.** _

_****_

_****_

_**That you weren't here when I got here.** _

_****_

_****_

_I should have warned you about that._

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_**Why would you need to warn me?** _

_****_

_****_

_You know why._

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_Sorry? (Didn't know if I should apologize for that one.)_

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_**Well if you have to ask.** _

_****_

_****_

_Sorry._

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_**It's better without the question mark. It passes as actual sincerity.** _

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_Ha ha. Point taken._

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_Are you dead tired, Emma?_

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_**Not dead tired. Why?** _

_****_

_****_

_You know why to that as well._

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_**I'm not dead tired.** _

_****_

_****_

.

There was something about her. Something uniquely special about Emma Swan. And the slow development of this thing he had with her was affording him the chance to really appreciate the entire situation. But…

Killian's eyes skimmed over their text conversation. He took in the ease in which the conversation flowed. There were always glimpses of the fire that lay right beneath the surface. It just wasn't as venomous this way. It wasn't shielded by her guard. And it was never turned on him. Not like it had been with they had first met.

It was those messages and thoughts of phone conversations, as well as the barely there occasions that had brought them together face to face, that had him feeling whimsical. There was nothing about her that he didn't like. There was nothing that made him feel incomplete. He only wanted more. More of Emma Swan.

It called for a delicate balancing act. Killian realized right off that it would take time. Time for her to become comfortable with him and begin to open up. He'd always been fine with that. Because there was something at the end of that long dark tunnel. There hadn't been any promises, but he'd had faith. And until she was ready… life would go on. Nothing had to change in his own life. This tentative thing hadn't been defined, and bachelorhood had always been good to him.

And then she had kissed him. Had turned everything that he thought he knew all around.

Killian didn't ask her to join him on the porch as his way to tempt the precarious balance between them. She had been deep inside of herself that night. Something had her trying to escape inside her head and away from… he didn't know how far the need to run had gotten, but he had been caught up in it.

He wouldn't have made the move to kiss her. Not at that point. But she had kissed him. Had run her fingers across his chest and around his neck. And the moment those fingers slipped into some elusive (and apparently erotically charged) spot at the nape of his neck, it had been all hands on deck. And also the start of being unable to keep Ms. Emma Swan off of his mind.

So when he asked her if she was tired, and she had responded with the question as to why, of course she had known. She had known that he was in need to hear her voice in his ear. What she probably didn't know was that the need didn't stop there.

As Killian pushed the button to call her, in those long seconds as he waited, he couldn't stop the thought of that kiss from filling his head. A sweet mouth. A giving mouth. Quiet moans. They didn't always have to be quiet though. Would she be a cautious and quiet lover? Would he have to draw out each of her moans? Would she take to his encouraging words and be free, letting him hear just how much she loved what he could make her feel?

"Hello."

He'd worked himself up in those long seconds. Hearing her voice in his ear only made that fact all the more noticeable to himself.

"Hello, Emma." It was quite thick.

"What's up?" She sounded curious. But it was an open kind of curiosity. Not based on some misgiving and mistrustful thought process.

"Are you in a good mood, Emma?"

"Why? Are you ready to take me out of it?" There was a bit of teasing in the question. And he could appreciate that as well.

Was the kiss really never there in the forefront of her mind? Did it truly not phase her? And what about the fact that she'd admitted that she liked him? She liked him! And he liked her. Yet, that balancing act barely any marginally different than it had been before that night.

"I'm ready to take you out of it," Killian told her quietly. He noticed the seriousness of his tone he'd adopted from the moment he'd heard her voice. It wasn't supposed to be that way. He didn't want to… chance anything.

He heard the exhale of breath from the other end. He'd hoped it didn't signify the walls.

"What then?" Emma asked. It wasn't as guarded as it could have been, but maybe there was a tinge of apprehension.

"Well, it won't be an intentional thought to ruffle some feathers. I just know we haven't talked about certain things. So why not broaden the scope of our sharing?"

Maybe it had become easy for her. Maybe it had become this complacent thing. Maybe she was so comfortable with the relationship that they'd had, that rocking the boat was the last thing she wanted to do.

"Are you going for something in particular here, Killian?" Emma asked cautiously.

"There are many things that I want to know about you, Emma Swan," he admitted, leaving it up to her interpretation as to what exactly. "I think that I know a lot about you, but there are some areas that I am still blind to." The thought of physically hidden away spots of her body tried to invade his mind, but he wouldn't let them stay. "So maybe we can share. Is there nothing that you want to know about me, Emma?"

She didn't respond immediately. The line had went dead quiet for long seconds.

His need to get her to open up had come at the wrong time. She had done everything to keep her distance from him physically since that night. He had not had as much as a glimpse of her in all that time. Even though she'd kept the text messages and phone calls as normal as before that night, it had been without the acknowledgment of what they'd admitted. And now? Now, his need to push forward was having the opposite effect of what he needed to have.

"You've already practically accused me of being nosey when I ask you tons of questions," Emma finally whispered across the line.

It took off about ten pounds of pressure that had been sitting on his heart. That was only a fraction, but it was definitely a start.

"Well, now you have carte blanche, love," he assured her.

There was a palpable tension crackling through the phone line. He knew that she felt it just as well as she did.

"It's late." The fact popped out as her excuse.

"When it gets too late, I will go willingly," he told her.

There was another pause. Shorter this time. Before…

"What do you want to know?"

"Don't let this scare you," Killian warned, unable to keep the smile out of his voice, "but I want to know everything."

It scared her.

"Killian?" It was soft and full-on worry.

"But you can start with something that is easy." He used a soothing voice, needing to calm down the anxiety before she shut down. "Come on, Emma. Trust me. Trust in me."

"Trust?"

And maybe that was another clue: she didn't trust easily. But there was a reason for that. He just wanted to know what that reason was.

"Start with me. Is there anything that you wanted to know about me?"

"After you accused me of being nosey?" she asked lightly.

It made him smile, her voice that was more tinged with caution more than that trust.

"I'd love it if-"

"I know what you're trying to get at, Killian." She had cut him off with a harshness that he hadn't expected. "You want to know what's wrong with me."

"What's wrong with you?" It was the way that she had said it that had made his smile fall so suddenly. "Emma, that's-"

"What is wrong with me is that… I'm damaged." She was getting good at a couple of things rather quickly: she was able to cut him off and dismiss his words with a quickness, and she was able to draw those walls up as she did it.

"Emma, no…"

"No, what?" she questioned with a disdain that couldn't be missed. "I don't know me enough to conclude that about myself? Or is it that you don't want to believe that of me?"

"We just did a one-eighty," Killian told her slowly, his head beginning to spin at how things had gotten away from him so quickly. "Emma, wait a minute."

He heard the huff come from her end of the phone. He knew that she was trying. Maybe she got the impression of how things had changed so fast as well.

She was quiet. And all he wanted was to know what had caused her to feel damaged. What was it in her that made her push away from everyone? Because he had a feeling that it wasn't just him…

"All I want is for you to share yourself with me," he confessed to her softly.

Another sigh…

He hadn't pressed her on what happened between them that night. She hadn't brought up the fact that they'd shared a mind-blowing kiss. He hadn't brought up the fact that he'd admitted that he liked her. They hadn't mentioned the terribly important fact that she had admitted that she liked him as well. But he felt as if it was time to be honest and on the same page. With the woman who was ruling his thoughts and desires.

"To give us both the chance to explore more about the person who is beginning to mean a lot to the other one."

Killian imagined the tight hold she'd have on the phone. Her thoughts were her own, but he wanted to know them.

"I like you, Emma," he reminded her. And saying it again, aloud, affected the beat of his own heart. "I like you a lot. And I would love it if you gave me the opportunity to show you that your liking me isn't something to cast doubt on."

He paused there, feeling as if time had been suspended. He needed her to respond to something. He needed her to not be quiet on this topic, and let him know what her thoughts were.

"Killian."

It could have been anything that left her mouth after his name. This was one time where he couldn't read her. She could have turned in any direction. And if she closed herself off again, right then, it would be his fault for pushing. His fault for expressing his need…

"I'm… damaged… okay?" It left her sounding broken. She sounded broken and resolute by that. "I think you think something about me that isn't…" There was confusion marring her voice. "I like you, Killian. I do. But… I'm… damaged. And you don't understand."

He listened to the sadness and finality of her words. It only made him wonder why she felt that way. Damaged didn't come way of birth, he didn't think. At least not with her. It would have been circumstances in life that would have pulled her down. Because there were things that he did know about her that was far from damaged. She needed to realize that.

"I want the chance to prove you wrong," Killian told her gently, hoping beyond hope that he could get through to her. He hadn't cracked walls up Emma yet. But there was so much more to her. Didn't she know that? The woman who spent hours of her time in their relationship was not a broken and desolate woman.

"You think that I'm something I am not," she said warily. "You want me to be something that I am not."

"No," he corrected her. "I want you to be you with me. All of you. And that means sharing with me things that you seem to fear in yourself."

Another pause. Another chance that he had overstepped into something she wasn't ready for.

"When was the last time you opened yourself up to someone, Emma?" he asked, not ready to stop pushing just yet.

"Are you telling me that you haven't bombarded my son with questions about my personal life?" she asked in a whisper.

"My friendship with Henry is free from that of ours," he answered slowly. "You don't really think…"

"No," Emma told him. "No. I… know."

"Emma?"

"You mean a man," she finally said. "You want to know about my last relationship."

It was somewhat accusatory. As if there was an underlining meaning to get her to answer. And there was. But not the way she had made it seem.

"I don't… I haven't… My last relationship ended over three years ago." After the bit of stammer, she let out another sigh. "I told you, Killian, that I don't do this."

Three years.

Three years.

He could have focused on many points that had just come up. But it was the three year break since she was in a relationship. And for some reason, he would bet a pretty penny on it, that there hadn't been anything in between the end of that relationship three years ago and their kiss on the porch more than a week ago.

"I think, Emma, that if you think about it- and I mean really think about it- you will come to realize the significance of what this is between us." Thinking about it himself put a smile on his face. "You see, there is a reason why you feel comfortable enough to share yourself with me, on whatever level it may be. So don't dismiss that fact. Or the fact that you like me and that I like you."

"Killian…" An inhalation of breath. A chance to turn and run.

"What are you thinking right now?" He didn't know what it was, but could maybe gauge where she was at by her answer.

"I'm thinking… you think you know me, when you… don't." She said it slowly, as if choosing each word carefully.

He mulled over that response, his mind going over every scenario possible.

"Do you think you know me, Emma?"

Another pause. But he didn't mind. Because…

"I'm learning a lot about what makes you you, It's why…"

She stopped there, but he knew what she would have said.

"Then can't you give me the same benefit of the doubt?" The weight that had left earlier had come back, only to leave once again. It was a slow and painful process, but it came with progress.

"It's getting late."

She saw the chance to run, too.

"Do you want to hang up the phone?" If he'd pushed too hard… He didn't think he was pushing too hard. Not when there was a need to get a lot farther than he'd tried up to this point. "If you want to get to bed now…" He knew about the cute flannel pajamas, but he pictured something far more revealing in that second.

"One thing," she finally began. "Pick one thing that you want to know about me. I'll share it with you as best as possible. And then…"

"Then you'll go," he finished for her.

The smile was back. Every time she opened herself up just a little bit wider, it felt like a strike in the winner's column.

"So," she sighed again. "Make it a good one."

Emma. Open. The feeling it gave was like no other.

"Okay, I'll make it a good one."

****

Killian glanced at the ringing phone beside him and saw that it was Liam. It lips pursed as he looked back at the sketchpad balancing on his knee.

He was getting better at capturing her. It had taken time. Just like everything else about her, so it had been befitting.

It was with a scowl that he reached for the phone that laid on the couch.

"Hello."

"Killian. Oh, God. What took you so long to answer?"

Liam sounded frantic. Which was unlike him. There was a nervousness in his tone that was never there.

"What happened?" The sketchpad was dropped to the table before him as he sat straight up.

"She said it's time, Killian." A bit cryptic. "We're about to leave for the hospital."

Shit. The bump?

"Now? Are you serious?" He felt his eyes growing wide at the prospect. "Ruby isn't due for another three weeks."

"Yeah, I know." There was a nervous laugh that escaped from him. "Three more weeks. But… Damn, Killian! This happens every day, right? Women give birth to babies every day. So it's okay, right?"

"Yeah, Liam," Killian agreed with him. "Every day. She's okay, right? No complications just yet?"

"No, no. It's just…" He heard the fear in his voice. "I think I'm freaking out."

It was time. And that was amazing.

"It's okay," he told Liam slowly. "Babies may be born every day, but this is your first. It's normal. It's okay." God! The bump.

"Killian, I think I'm freaking out right now."

It was amazing to hear his big brother like this.

"Where's Ruby?" He smiled to himself. "I don't hear any screaming."

"Oh, she would murder you with just a look for that one." He took in a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "I'm getting everything out to the car and then I'm going to go back in and get her. Killian?"

"Yeah?"

"You have to get to the hospital," he told him. "You have to meet us there. I'm freaking out over here. Please meet us at the hospital."

Killian stood up immediately at his brother's request.

"Of course I'll be there. I might even beet the two of you there."

"Good." There was another sigh of relief. "Good. I… have to get her to the hospital."

"I'll see you there," he assured him.

"Good. Killian?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you, Killian."

It wasn't that he didn't say it to him often. It was something different about it this time.

"I love you, too, Liam. I'll see you soon."

He hung up the phone then. Standing in the middle of his living room, he took a moment to just process the whole situation.

The bump was coming. The bump wouldn't be a bump anymore. It was a baby. Instead, their threesome was about to become a foursome. And that… was amazing!

Liam's little family was growing. It was Liam who was passing on the family name to a new generation. Because that was where he was in his life.

Emma.

She came to his mind so suddenly and so unexpectedly.

Liam's family was a part of him, but it was his own. It would be really nice if…

Killian shook his head. He was wasting time when his brother needed him. It took all of two minutes to grab everything that he was going to need to take with him. Moving quickly around the apartment, it was thoughts of new life entering not only the world, but his world, that had him smiling.

He grabbed the door, yanking it open and leaving out. The only sign of nervousness came in way of his hands as he locked the door behind him.

He didn't make it far from that spot. Turning around, he caught a glimpse of that door from across the hall.

He still hadn't seen her. Their conversations had come only via phone calls and text messages. She would have needed a break after that phone call. He had pushed. But she hadn't caved. And that was something.

_"It wasn't Henry's father. My last relationship was with a man named Walsh. It didn't end well. Not really." ___

Her words had been soft and delicate. She said she was broken, but she didn't want to show it. She tried not to show it.

Killian knew that she was home. She was on the other side of that wall…

It was a split-second decision that brought him to that side of the hall. It had been a split-second decision to knock loudly on her door. If he would have taken the time to think about it, then he would have told himself she wasn't ready.

They still hadn't seen each other. In more than a week, he hadn't set eyes on her. They had shared so much. He had pushed so hard. And he wanted to see her.

Waiting for someone to open the door, he knew it would have been just as easy to call her on the way to the hospital. He could have texted her all the news from the hospital. But it hadn't been what he needed.

The door was slow to open, making him believe it would Emma and not Henry who would be greeting him.

He saw her hand first, gripping the door as she pulled it open. And then it was all of her. From the top of her blonde head to the bottom of her bared toes. And it was a sight to behold of the woman who he was growing attached to.

There was a wariness in her eyes as she gripped that door. A look of wonderment for him as she looked him over.

"Killian?" The soft greeting was given questioningly.

He could have only imagined the way that he looked to her. Bright eyes and silly grin. All at her door.

"Ruby's in labor," he finally told her, smiling like an idiot for so many reasons.

Her head quirked to the side as she continued to watch him. The door opened wider, and there was finally a smile, a soft smile, on her face.

"Congratulations!" she told him, shaking her head. "You must be excited."

"Thanks. I'm headed for the hospital right now."

"Isn't it… early?" she asked, her eyes squinting this time.

"Yeah, it is." He grinned, because she knew. Knew parts of him as his life. "It's like three weeks early. That's why it's such a shock."

Emma nodded, her lip captured with her teeth. "Okay then." Another genuine smile as she leaned against the door. "Congratulations. Again. Killian."

For a moment, it was enough to just stand there and look at her. To bask in the simple beauty of Emma Swan when she was at home in her own environment.

Blonde hair flowing over her back and down her shoulders. The fitted-sweater hugging her curves so perfectly. The way she stood there, barefooted, for most of the world to not know. But he was seeing it. He was seeing another side of her that she kept only for herself.

"I'm going to call you, Emma," Killian told her quickly, his eyes meeting hers again. She was standing in front of him after more than a week of not seeing her, and after conversations that had made him… "I'm going to call you and let you know how things are going."

He sees the softening in her eyes and in her stance.

And for a moment, it's not about Ruby and the bump. It's not about getting to the hospital as soon as possible so he is there for Liam. Just for a moment…

The attachment to this woman was amazing and unexpected. He hadn't expected to meet this woman and have her turn his thoughts and feelings on their side.

He hadn't seen her in days. It was become she felt that she couldn't see him. That she was content on keeping their relationship on different levels at different times as she had saw fit. But…

It was an attachment that was more than physical. It was a mental and emotional connection that he had not expected when he first saw her from across the hall months ago.

"I can't wait… to find out," Emma said. Her eyes fell on different parts of him before she'd finally looked back up at him.

Did she feel it, too? Or was he in this all alone? He didn't think he was in this all alone.

But he didn't know if it was as strong as his feelings were for her. Because, looking at her, it all began to make sense.

The feelings were real, he couldn't deny that. He couldn't deny that he was standing there and wanting her. But it wasn't like in the dream. In wasn't only the physical that he was pining away for while standing in front of her. It was the whole package. He wanted the physical, the mental, and the emotional. He wanted all of her…

It was the miracle of what was happening in his family at that moment.

It was Emma Swan, standing in front of him. She was a reminder of everything: everything that he didn't have, everything that he did have, and everything he could have.

Did she see that?

Killian was holding an inner debate with himself as he watched her. Did he share? Because he wanted her to know what she was doing to him.

"You'll be my first call," he finally told her, taking a step back away from the door.

Emma's eyes fell to the floor as she nodded.

"Exciting." She was quick to look back up at him then, her green gaze falling on his.

Killian nodded, his lips pursed. That was it, He'd kept her long enough…

"Okay." He took another step back, leaving her standing there and watching him.

It wasn't only because of the way her eyes fell on his. It was also because leaving her like this had lost in that debate in his head.

"Emma." The two steps that he'd taken to separate them was matched in the one step back to her.

It could have been a mistake. He prayed that it wasn't a mistake.

Killian's caught her face in between his hands, his mouth seeking hers all at the same time.

He kissed her. His mouth opening on hers and his body press tightly against his. It was sweet. Her mouth was as sweet as he had remembered it being.

"Killian." It came out as a low and quiet moan. One that drove him instantly wild. But it was the way her arms slipped behind his neck. It was the way that she remembered the exact spot that had almost done him in that first time.

Slow. The kiss was slow. Open mouths and a dip of that sweet tongue that had needed little coaxing.

His hands gripped at her waist, pulling her even closer to his body. A body that was so in-tuned to every nuance of the one writhing against it.

There had been no hesitation. There hadn't been a second that she hadn't kissed him back.

"Emma."

His lips smoothed over to her cheek, still holding her close. He listened to her shallows breathing that was so close to his ear.

He almost hadn't come over her. They'd almost not had this moment…

Emma moved then just slightly. He opened his eyes in time to see hers flutter open.

"Um…"

Killian let her go, letting his arms fall down to his sides as he took a step back.

He watched as her bottom lip was sucked into her mouth. There wasn't a smile, but there was something in her eyes.

"Emma."

"It's baby time," she whispered. This time, there was a smile on her face. It was tiny but it was there. "You have to go. I know."

He didn't want to go. Not after…

"I'll call you."

It had to have meant something. She wouldn't have kissed him back if it hadn't meant something.

Emma nodded. "Okay."

His hand reached out towards her, his fingertips barely hitting hers.

Her fingers gripped at his, holding firm for all of a second. A whole second.

"Bye, Killian."

He nodded again, feeling silly at not wanting to go.

"Goodbye, Emma." And this time, he turned. He walked slowly away from her.

He heard the close of her door, followed by the turn of the lock. She was back in, safe and sound.

_His name. A returned kiss. A grasp of his hand. All from Emma. ___

Those were the only reasons why he was able to walk out onto that porch. Because they had all meant something.


	10. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I usually don't outline my fics, but I took a couple of days and wrote out a fair amount of where this story is going to go. (And I'm excited!) I have a lot of school projects and work to do this next month and a half, which was one reason I wanted to plot out the story.
> 
> This chapter is definitely a baby bit compared to prior chapters. I tried to see if there was anything that I could add to it to flesh it out, but... I couldn't think of anything. Not for this part.

**Saturday 9:17a.m.**

****

****

_Another false alarm. Can you believe it?_

__

__

_**I can believe it.** _

_****_

_****_

_Two trips to the hospital and with no baby in sight. It's driving me crazy. You should see Liam._

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_**It's driving YOU crazy? You're not the one who keeps having false labor pains. You should be concerned with Ruby.** _

_****_

_****_

_**It's not even her due date, Killian.** _

_****_

_****_

_Leave it to you to be the sensible one._

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_It's driving Ruby crazy, I know._

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_**Oh, look who can be all sensitive towards another person!** _

_****_

_****_

_You're right. Again._

__

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_Although isn't it much more fun to explore someone else's sensitive sides rather than just being sensitive?_

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__

Emma wanted to hide the smile, to keep it all to herself. Killian wasn't there to see it, she knew, but she felt as if her finding slight humor in him shouldn't be detected in any way.

"Mom?"

The phone slipped from her fingers to the kitchen table in front of her. It wasn't like she had anything to feel guilty about. He'd surprised her. That was all.

Turning her eyes up at him, she watched as Henry walked over to the table himself. The bowl of cereal that had been in his hands was placed on the table across from her. But it was the way he was watching her. The curiosity in his eyes that made her nervous.

"Yeah?"

There was a slow smile that crossed his face. Henry shook his head as he took his seat across from her.

"You didn't even hear me, did you?"

It made Emma's eyes go on a search across the span of the room. She had noticed when he had come into the kitchen. She had noticed how he'd come in and fixed the bowl of cereal. But… if there had been something that he'd said that was directed at her…

She'd missed that.

"I'm sorry… Henry." Emma shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. She should be focused on… Well, the actual point was that maybe she shouldn't be focused on…

"Who are you texting, Mom?"

The curious question came as he innocently brought a generous spoon of cereal to his mouth. Those eyes though…

For a moment, just a short moment, Emma thought about not answering her son's question truthfully. Just for a moment.

"Was that what you'd asked me earlier?" Deflection sounded a lot better than a lie.

The smile on Henry's face was distinguishable even through the chewing of the cereal.

"No," he told her slowly. "I was asking you about the arcade. Some of my friends wanted to know if I could go with them this afternoon."

Oh.

"Oh," Emma said softly. "I think that'll be okay. Sure."

Henry held his spoon halfway from the bowl and his mouth, his eyes mischievously on her.

There was a part of her that didn't even want to ask.

"So… who are you texting, Mom?"

He seemed to not have a problem with asking…

Emma picked up the mug of coffee that was off to the side of her. She threw a glance at the phone that had, instead, been in front of her.

"Um... that was Killian."

"Killian?"

The coffee mug was lifted to her lips and she took a quick sip, ignoring the smile her son had just for her.

"He was telling me that Ruby had another false labor," she explained. Because that was true.

The conversation had never left that of Ruby and the baby watch. It hadn't gotten to the way of anything personal. Well…

He hadn't mentioned that the last time that baby Jones may have been on his or her way that he had kissed her. Neither did they mention that she had eagerly returned that knee-weakening kiss with as much passion as he had.

His arms around her. Her arms around him. His scent leaving her all the more weak. The way not only his lips slid across her cheek, but the roughness of his cheek as well. No. They hadn't mentioned any of that.

This wasn't like her. She didn't…

Even after all of this time, she shouldn't have gotten this close to him. Not to the point to where she'd kissed him and then let him kiss her.

It had happened twice. And, in fact, it had happened in each instance that they had been around each other. So what did that say about her? What did that mean?

Emma felt the tug of her eyebrows coming together, the frown creasing there. The sigh was just as involuntary.

"Is that all, Mom?"

She turned her focus back on Henry at his question. The smile was gone, and it had been replaced with a frown of his own.

"What?"

Henry was slow to push the bowl of cereal away from him. His entire focus was now on her as he watched her with a closeness that was almost too much.

What was he trying to see? What was he trying to decipher by just looking at her?

"What are you doing, Henry?" she asked, bringing the mug up once again to her lips. This time she didn't take a sip. There was a bit of unease settling in the bottom of her stomach by both the way her son looked at her and the complications from this growing… thing…

"I knew that he liked you." Henry was slow to shrug. "I… just didn't know. I didn't know if you were going to like him back."

The sickness was either replaced or just overpowered by the rapid beating of her heart.

"Henry…"

"Do you like Killian?" he asked. He'd finally just came out and asked the question that she wasn't ready to hear her son ask her. And it would come with an answer that she wasn't quite ready to give.

Why? When she had admitted it to not only herself, but the man himself?

"Henry?" The mug was set back down on the table in front of her.

The frown on his face deepened. As if he was preparing himself for any answer she could have possibly given.

Emma paused, her mind coming up with too many thoughts.

It was always the two of them. For most of his life, it was mom and son. And, to be a thirteen year old boy, Henry knew his mom as well as any son could know his mom. Sometimes that meant knowing bits and pieces of a life that wasn't always happy. Sometimes that meant understanding that life could be somewhat solitary and lonely for her.

He liked Killian. Emma knew that. And…

It was becoming a jumble and a mess in her head.

"Yeah, Mom?"

She had taken too long to answer. He had begun to press.

Another sweep of her son's face. Another moment to process everything. And then…

"I… like Killian." Emma felt the instant tilt of her head as she watched him process that information.

It was with a twitch of his lips and a widening of his eyes. It was brief, because he looked back down into his bowl. The spoon was grabbed, swirling it around in the cereal.

Baited breath…

"I thought you did." Henry was quick to look up again. "That's good, Mom."

That was one way to look at it…

She saw the text come in from the corner of her eye. There was a little apprehension with knowing that Henry knew. He knew that not only did she talk to Killian, but she also actually liked him. And that…

"Don't make a big deal out of it," she muttered, her hand sliding over to grab the phone.

"Ok, Mom."

It was the huff that accompanied those words that made her look up. An all-knowing look that couldn't be so all-knowing. Not really.

"If you say so."

His words left her heart beating faster than it should have been. She wanted to blame the rapidness of her heart on that and not at Killian's simple question.

Emma?

Although she didn't know what was going to come next.

"It's kind of awesome though."

Her eyes flew up to Henry, the surprise of his confession showing on her face.

Henry stood up, his smile growing at the same time he grabbed at the bowl.

"I know: don't get too excited," he said with a roll of his eyes. And, with another spoonful on cereal going to his mouth, he moved back away from the table.

Did it make her want to run? Emma thought about that while watching his back. If he wouldn't have said the words first, then she would have. And, no, it didn't make her want to run. Not just yet…

Her eyes fell back on the phone.

_**Henry asked about you.** _

_**_**About us. _ ****_**_ ** _

_**_**_****_ ** _ ** _

_What did you tell your son about me? About us?_

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_**I told him that you like me. He said he already knew that.** _

_****_

_****_

_I always knew the lad was smart._

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_Did he say that for real?_

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_**No.** _

_****_

_****_

_Look at you getting my hopes and dreams up._

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_**I told him that I liked you.** _

_****_

_****_

_Really?_

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_**Yes.** _

_****_

_****_

_I needed to ask you something, Emma._

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_**What?** _

_****_

_****_

_I want to take you out. I want to see you beyond the confines of the apartment house. Will you go on a date with me?_

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__

It was too early in the morning for the emotional rollercoaster that she was being put on. Would no one else agree to that fact? First Killian. Then Henry. And then Killian had to come back and add to it.

_I want to see you, Emma._

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_**Can I think about it?** _

_****_

_****_

_So you're going to?_

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_I'm taking into consideration that you didn't automatically turn me down. I think it's a great start._

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_I'll talk to you later, Emma._

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_**Okay.** _

_**  
** _

****

Sometimes management and designers clashed. And who was it exactly that got stuck in the middle of those arguments?

What time was it?

Each one of Emma's steps were quick and taken with a purpose. She slid her hand into her pocket to fish out her phone. At the feel of it in the palm of her hand brought with it the flash of Killian. A possible text message that she might have missed due to a busy work day had crossed her mind. And that wasn't at all what should have been there.

Shaking her head, she pushed the thought away. Pushed it way down deep because it served no purpose whatsoever.

What time was it?

Emma pulled the phone out of her pocket just as she reached the back office. And the message stopped her dead in her tracks.

It wasn't the words. Not exactly…

.

_Good luck on your meeting, love! I'm looking forward to hearing all about your success._

__

__

The thought had pushed its way into her head, but she hadn't expected…

Why was he so attentive? Why did he seem to be one hundred percent genuine? Why couldn't she find the flaw that was going to make trusting in him and believing in him impossible? Because she knew her. She knew that running came easily and naturally. She wanted to want to run. He wasn't making it easy.

Emma had grabbed at her phone for a reason. And that reason was not Killian Jones. It didn't make those damn bluer than blue eyes stop from invading her mind. It didn't stop that cocky grin from showing up as clear as day.

Two seventeen.

It was two seventeen. And that was the point of taking out her phone. It meant that she had thirteen minutes before her meeting was to begin. And Belle…

The office door pulled open in front of her, with a hectic looking Belle stepping out.

"We have about ten minutes," she said in a rush. Pressing the form folder tightly to her chest, she offered her a smile.

"Well, we have thirteen minutes," Emma amended with a sigh.

"And absolutely no time to go over anything." The door behind her closed once she moved away from it.

"But we're fine." _Good luck on your meeting, love! _"We have a clear and precise plan all laid out and ready to go."__

Belle hugged the file even closer to her.

"You're right. So I won't dwell on the fact that some designers, who shall remain nameless, are inherently difficult to please."

_I'm looking forward to hearing all about your success._

__

__

"I think that's the best way to go about it," Emma murmured. She raised the phone again to look at the clock once more. "Okay, we're down to twelve minutes."

Belle moved then, a smile fixed pleasantly on her face.

"If you're ready then so am I," she told her, her steps just as assured as they needed to be.

"It's really… awkwardly nice… when you have someone in your corner."

The stress of the future meeting was easy to make out in Belle. But she still gave a tilt of her head in wonderment at Emma's statement, her eyes searching her face.

Was she a pessimist? She probably wouldn't have went so far as to say that before. It was just the circumstances of her life that gave her a sullen outlook. But... sometimes… Lately…

Pessimist didn't seem to fit. Anymore. And… sometimes… maybe she should have stayed a pessimist. Because…

"We're running out of time." Belle was already on the move when Emma finally decided to catch up with her. "Let's go."

_Good luck on your meeting, love! I'm looking forward to hearing all about your success._

__

__

There steps, in unison, didn't seem to distract Belle as much as it did Emma. She was looking at her. She was watching her with a nosiness that she was sure that Killian would be able to appreciate.

Killian? Damn!

"It's okay. Don't worry."

Belle's frown was sudden. "What?"

"We'll knock this out," Emma told her firmly. "No need to worry."

"Oh. Yes. I'm sure we will." A slow smile reached her face. "What's gotten into you, Emma?"

The question made her give her a double-take.

"What do you mean?"

Belle was slow to shake her head. "I… don't know. There's something different about you. I can't put my finger on it though."

Emma's quick steps stayed in sync with Belle's only by the mere strength of refusing to show and outward change.

"I don't know what you mean."

A shoulder went up in a shrug as Belle turned her attention to the path in front of her.

"Whatever it is…" There was a brief moment she looked back to smile. "Keep it up. I think it works for you."

She refused to equate those words to anything in her personal life.

Nope. Not even one…

****

**Wednesday 8:22p.m**

****

****

_**I've been thinking.** _

_****_

_****_

_I've been thinking, too._

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_Although I'm most certain that your thoughts are the safer of the two. Do share._

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_**Should I completely ignore that to be on the safe side?** _

_****_

_****_

_Not necessarily._

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_**I've been thinking.** _

_****_

_****_

_Take 2 I presume? What's been on your mind, Emma?_

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_**Your question.** _

_****_

_****_

_**Your request.** _

_****_

_****_

_I should call you._

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_Should I call you?_

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_If you plan on breaking my heart and leaving it in two, well that's better over text. It'll be easier to play it off._

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_**Call me.** _

_****_

_****_

_**I'd like to hear your voice.** _

_****_

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_****_

She answered the phone on its first ring. Nerves be damned…

"Hello." It was a slow and steady beat, her heart. Strong nevertheless.

"Hello, Emma." He had a deep and rich timbre. It was thicker. But it was a noticeable thickness. An audible hint to what he was thinking.

"How was your day?" she asked him softly.

Two words. And he already had her waiting on baited breath.

"I had a very nice and productive day," he answered smoothly. "Don't ask me about our state treasurer's misdeeds when it comes to mishandling of funds though. It's not a pretty story."

"Okay, I won't." The absurdity of the ease was overwhelming sometimes…

"How was your day?"

It made her smile. He made her smile.

"Maybe a little less productive, but a lot of ironing out of issues," she told him. "Just don't ask me about the ins and outs of working for a designer who is nervous about giving creative license to those who are not so easily controlled."

"Okay, I won't." There was a smile in his voice. Warm. Genuine. "I'll ask you something else instead."

She imagined the stroke of his thumb over his chin…

"Yes?"

There was a pause. So short. But didn't he know what that was doing to her heart?

She heard his chuckle. "You're not… teasing me, are you, Emma?"

"Teasing you?" She shook her head to herself. "I'm not teasing you."

Another pause. Another moment where he had been silent. Then…

"Emma?" It was quiet. Pensive.

"Yes?" Who knew?

"I would love the chance to get to know you outside of these walls." Strong. Firm. Truthful. Killian. Every single one of those words modified that statement. "I would love the chance to take you out. Emma. Would you do me the honor of going out on a date with me?"

Why was it even more than she'd ever expected?

She took in a deep breath, and she savored those words for just a moment longer.

"Yes." It was little more than a whisper. "I would… really like that."

"Emma Swan…" It came out on a ragged breath, deep and guttural. "What do you do to me, Emma Swan?"

She didn't have an answer to that. She didn't know the answer to that. But there was a part of her that wondered if it was the same thing that he did to her.


	11. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's date night! Which is probably the only reason this chapter was so easily written.

She'd agreed to a Friday night date. Although she did warn him that sometimes work could run late.

He'd told her that he would make sure that no matter what happened, they would be together outside that apartment. He would make it work.

"I don't know if dinner is romantic enough." Killian leaned back against the wall of the freshly painted nursery.

He'd been distracted. He was sure that Liam had noticed, his task of helping being slightly ignored. Liam didn't make a big deal about it. The crib was all but put up now.

"Are you striving for romance, little brother?" Liam looked up at him from his seat on the floor. He dropped the small wrench down next to him and drew his knees up to his chest.

"I'm striving…" Killian's mind wandered at that point. There were so many avenues that he could have taken. And just thinking about them… "I'm striving… to make a great first impression."

Liam was slow to nod his head. Laying his arms over his knees, he gave Killian a curious look.

"This is Emma," he reminded him quietly. "This is the woman who has found it a lot easier to get to know you over a phone, no matter the context of the phone, instead of getting to know you in person. Even though she lives across the hall from you."

His comments made Killian squint his eyes on his brother.

"Yeah. And?"

"This is the woman who has something in her past that makes her mistrustful of people in general," Liam continued.

"So what exactly are you trying to get at?" Killian asked, pushing his back away from the wall.

It wasn't that he had shared personal details of her with him. There were just some very basic and intuitive things about Emma Swan that was easily seen. Or maybe easily stereotyped as. Because it was true that something in her past had made her mistrustful of people. But he knew it went beyond that. It wasn't only the utter disappointment people had been in her life. There was some internal quality that Liam didn't know about that had added to the overall picture.

And their unique relationship had stemmed from that, Killian was sure. Emma needed her guard to be up constantly. It was only with luck that he had happened on her comfort zone. That he had stumbled upon a way to get to know her that took a far less guarded tactic.

"What I'm trying to get at," Liam said quietly, looking up at Killian, "is that maybe you need to keep in mind what she will be ready for. And what she will not be ready for."

It gave Killian pause. What was Emma ready for? What did she want from him? What was she willing to offer him?

"Is she ready for you to try to dazzle her with some five-star restaurant down on Shawmut Avenue? Do you plan on wining and dining her in hopes of adding her to the list of women who are eager and waiting on the next call from you?"

It was more than a squint of his eyes. It was more than an anger building up inside of him from the words Liam had used. It was more than the feeling of protectiveness for Emma and who she was. It was a lot more.

"It's not like that with Emma," Killian told him slowly, his eyes falling over his brother with a look of… hurt. "I thought you understood that."

Liam was watching him. Watching him closely with an indistinguishable smile on his face.

"I thought so," he told him quietly. "And I think you just proved it." Liam shook his head, his eyes widening on him. "Killian? Are you…"

He knew what he was going to ask him. He knew why he had paused and why he hadn't actually said the words.

Liam, stopping mid-thought, began to stand up from the floor. Becoming on eye-level, brother to brother, there was a moment to silently draw an understanding. Man to man.

"Killian?" As if an affirmation was all he needed. As if quiet confirmation from one to the other was all he needed.

"It's different with Emma," Killian finally offered.

There wasn't a fear in him when it came to his feelings. He'd just never had someone who had made him feel so strongly.

"It's always been different with Emma. She's not like the others."

That earned him a smile. And he knew exactly why. It was the term that he'd used. The term that both Liam and Ruby liked to refer to the women he dated.

"She's definitely not like the other ones," Liam agreed. His hand found Killian's shoulder with a firm clasp. "It's good that you noticed that."

"Well, it would be hard not to."

Killian watched as Liam turned around back to the crib. He watched as his hands found the railing and the way he held on. He watched at his gaze fell on the mattress in front of him.

"The one." Liam had muttered it over the crib.

The one. A dawning came over him.

"That was a long-running joke," Killian reminded him with a slow shake of his head.

Liam turned back around to look at him. There was a glimmer of a smile on his lips.

"It _was _, wasn't it?"__

**** 

He knocked at her door softly this time. It wasn't because there wasn't an excitement or nervousness. It was just the polite way to be. And Killian had planned to be… gentlemanly on their first date.

She opened the door only seconds later. And…

She appeared before him in a white turtleneck that hung against curves so lusciously. The black leather leggings clung to legs and hips that he had not had the pleasure of holding on enough to. She was a few inches taller in those black ankle boots. She was… a vision.

"Won't we be the striking pair?" Killian murmured, continuing to take in the appreciative glance of a woman who was well put together.

Emma's eyes seemed to have a bit of a smolder.

"I don't know if that was a compliment to me, or more for yourself," she said lightly. "Good evening, Killian."

His teeth sunk into the bottom of his lip, a shake of his head following.

"Good evening, Emma."

Her smile grew, and he enjoyed the sparkle in her eye. He hadn't known what to expect when he came over. Would she be timid? Closed off? Nervous to the point of being quiet? The fact that she'd already offered smiles and quick wit only assured him of the night they would have.

"Come in?" Emma asked. "I just have to grab my coat and purse."

Killian followed her into the apartment, his eyes drawing on those legs as she walked away. She was enough woman to make him shake his head in wonderment of her beauty.

He watched as the length of her arm slid out toward her things on the couch. He watched as she fit herself into the camel coat that reached mid-thigh, not hiding too much of the leather-clad legs. He watched as she flipped the blonde her from underneath the coat so that it fell in light waves over her shoulders and her back.

_Damn._

__

__

He knew that he was the one to suggest that they got to know each other away from the apartment house, but by God, there were three suitable beds between them that he would have loved to get to know her in.

Emma threw him a look over her shoulder, taking a moment to do some watching herself.

It made Killian grin. An eyebrow shot up and he laid his hand out towards her.

"You look amazingly beautiful tonight, Emma," he told her. "My apologies if you ever catch me leering."

She didn't say anything to that. Instead, she had leaned back over the couch to scoop up the purse laying there.

Killian didn't know how much longer he was going to be able to do the gentlemanly thing and not touch her. Not tonight. Not when she had agreed to go out on a date with him. Not when the entire point was about them.

"Ah…"

Emma turned back around to look at him.

"Where's Henry?" Killian asked. "I was expecting to give him the speech on not worrying about his mom and that I would have her returned home safely at a decent hour."

Emma's steps were slow as they brought them back to him.

"Henry is… spending the night at his friend's house," she answered.

It only made the inappropriate thoughts return. He'd never been in her bedroom…

"Does that mean I don't have to live up to that decent hour part?" he asked teasingly, the smile on his face growing.

Her eyes squinted on him. "I don't think that's what that means."

"Ah, well." Killian lifted a shoulder in a shrug. "Just thought I'd make sure."

She had been so close that her sweet scent was invading his senses. It was with care and caution that he wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her closer to him.

"Emma." It was a quiet murmur as he looked at her.

Her hands had come up to delicately rest on his arms. She took at moment before her eyes made the path from over his shoulder, to his chest, and finally his face. It had taken a moment before her eyes settled on his.

It had taken that long for it to really sink in for him.

Emma. Emma Swan. The closed-off neighbor who had let him in so gradually that it could have been painful. But it hadn't been painful. It had been a three-month journey that had brought them right here.

"What?" The quiet question came with the tightening grip of her hands on his arms.

"I'm really happy that you agreed to let me get to know you better," Killian finally answered. "And that you're willing to get to know me, too. I know… that…" He paused, stopping himself. "I will forever be grateful for the opportunity."

"Yeah, well…" Emma sighed, her eyes lifted and catching something off to the side of him.

It made him smile. Because this was still Emma. And Emma was bits and pieces of mystery and familiarity. In his arms, he had Emma Swan.

"I'm ready to go, if you are," she whispered.

"Of course."

Killian let his arm slide away from her back, moving away…

Emma's hands tightened their grip on his arms, not letting him move too far away.

"Just…" She sighed, those hands moving to smooth over his shoulders and around his neck.

He hadn't expected it.

Emma's hands pulled him closer, her lips reaching for his.

Killian's hand gripped at her waist, pulling her against him. Her kiss was soft and sweet. A soft peck of lips to lips that held for a second. Another. Then another. Until his mouth opened on hers, deepening the kiss because there was a need.

She pulled away first. The loss of her mouth and all her warmth was a bit disconcerting.

"I'm ready," she whispered, stepping around him.

Damn.

Her back was to him. And maybe that was a good thing. Because…

Emma Swan. She wasn't like the others. He'd know that for as long as he'd known her. But he may have just realized that that was the best thing in the world.

**** 

"I don't know what I expected." Emma turned her attention on him, a small smile gracing her lips. "Maybe a candlelight dinner in one of the most trendy and posh restaurants, while you tried to impress me."

An eyebrow shot up towards her. "Is that what you expected?"

Emma's smile grew as she gave him a nod.

"Damn! Liam made it seem as if that would be one of the worst moves I could have made," Killian told her. "Would you have rather gone the posh route?"

The smile turned into a laugh. Emma was laughing.

"No," she said slowly. "This is fun. Live music with a little dinner is great. I've never been here before." Her eyes scanned the whole of the room.

"Never?"

Sam's wasn't the five-star restaurant that Liam had warned him against, but it was still a popular dinner spot that was constantly busy. It was the added feature of the live music that had clenched the deal for him. It wasn't about romanticizing her on that first date. It was more about putting them both in an atmosphere that was comfortable. And as the band played

"The view of the harbor is amazing," Emma said, her gaze falling on that view then.

Killian had an amazing view as well…

Creamy white neck. He hadn't had the opportunity to kiss her right there. He hadn't had the opportunity to bury his face right there and take in her scent. That was something that he would have to attend to sooner rather than later.

Winter was quickly approaching. It had limited his need for creativity on short notice when it came to planning their date. Liam's words of advice, or caution, had given him pause.

He wasn't about impressing her. It was having a place to get to know her outside of home. It was about showing her a part of him that she hadn't known. It was about her feeling comfortable enough to be herself, with him, with as little guard as possible. It was supposed to be about them. And he felt like she was giving herself.

Killian liked the fact that she had looked passed the sautéed kale Caesar and the quinoa salads. He liked the fact that she hadn't hesitated in ordering the grilled flank steak and the glass of red wine. He liked the way that she had asked if he was going to join her in a glass. He liked the way she lifted a shoulder in way of a shrug when he said he preferred a nice glass of rum to go with his roasted striped bass. He liked… everything about her.

"You… asked Liam… about me?" Emma turned back to look at him then.

Green eyes. Why was there a particular detail about that green, a fleck of gold maybe, that he hadn't seen before? A speck that had thrown off any and every drawing that he'd ever done of her. Hm…

"You two are really close." Emma picked up her glass of wine, bringing it to her lips and taking a sip. But those eyes. They stayed on him.

"We're really close," Killian agreed with her.

She sat the glass back down with a smile on her face. It was followed by just a slight nod of her head.

Oh. Maybe he was supposed to elaborate…

"We moved here when I was eighteen, as I told you before," Killian continued. "It was after our mother died."

There was an instant solemn look on her face at that bit of news.

"It's been just the two of us since that day." Killian smiled at that thought. "Until Liam met Ruby. She became family instantly. You see, maybe you wouldn't think so because… well… how hard is it for two people to be close?" He shrugged at that. "But family is… everything to us. The fact that we had dwindled down to only two for a while didn't change that. And now it's almost doubled that."

Emma stayed quiet, but it was the way her gaze crossed over him that made him wonder what she was thinking.

"I can really see that," she finally said softly. "Then… why…"

"Are you going to ask me why I haven't settled down and gotten married if family means so much to me?" Killian cut in curiously.

There was a stiffness that in her neck and back that made her posture become upright.

"The question of your bachelorhood has crossed my mind," she admitted. Emma shook her head. "You're… not like me." She had a way of putting herself down that he didn't know if he would ever understand. "You're a successful man with an amazing personality and with a charm that should have any woman swooning."

"Emma Swan, the compliments coming out of you are going to make me jump over this table just so that I can grab you up in my arms," he muttered through a smile. And he was close to doing just that. His hands grabbed at the sides of the table, ready to spring at just the right moment.

She had the nerve to blush. A sweet red coloring overcoming her cheeks in a way that only made him want her all the more.

"That sounds like a shot at trying to get out of answering," she said, ignoring the blush as best as possible. "I've gotten to know different facets of you, Killian. When added up, you shouldn't be single. Unless…"

She was leaving it up to him to finish her thought. But what was it? That he must be some philanderer who didn't know how to settle down? That there was a throng of women who came in and out of his bed? That she was one of a dozen who he spent his free hours with trying to get to know and win over.

Killian never saw an issue with how he lived his life. He never saw the issue with enjoying the perks that came with the title of bachelor. But would Emma see it differently?

For the first time that night, he felt a nervousness creeping through him. He felt that the wrong response would drive her back away from him.

"You want to know about the women that I date?"

He watched as she turned her attention back to her plate in front of her. He watched as she picked up the fork and lightly swirled it around the pieces of potato.

"I haven't been in a relationship in… Emma, I don't know," Killian said, his eyebrows furrowing together at trying to put a time on it. "I think I have always been the consummate bachelor."

He waited. Waited until he knew he had her undivided attention by looking at him once again.

"There are women that I've been known to spend time with," he finally continued, looking right into those green eyes. "But someone special? I haven't had anyone special in my life in years. To be honest with you, Emma, although family is everything to me, I am not one to force myself into a situation just to feed that need."

Her nod was quick. Her smile, as small as it was, was fake.

"I was curious because you knew my own dating stance."

It only dawned on him then. Because…

It had been a while since the last time he'd been with anyone. Weeks? Had it been a month since…

It was… Had it been? Yes. Morgan. In Springfield. The same night that he spent over a half hour on the phone with Emma. The first night she had let him in just a little bit more. The same night he had imagined her skin against his and what her moan would sound like in his ear.

Not since that night…

Funny, that he'd been unaware of the fact that he'd been faithful to the thought of having her one day.

"Remember how I told you that I liked you, Emma?"

That smile on her face remained false, but curious.

"I meant it," he told her. "I like you a lot. I like getting the chance to know you. I like that my days are filled by pestering you with things that no one else would care to know about my days. I like that my nights are filled with your voice in my ear."

The blush was back, tinges of pinks and red in her neck and cheeks.

"I like that you are not afraid to be tough and you are not afraid to speak your mind," Killian continued quietly. "I like that, even if things scare you, you tackle them head on."

That earned him pursing of her lips and those eyes narrowing on him.

"And," Killian smiled, "I must admit that I like the way your fingers massage this particular spot at the nape of my neck when we kiss. It's an absolute turn-on that drives me quite mad whenever you do it."

The smile on her face twitched a bit, as if she was holding in as much of it as possible.

"Are you trying to soften my resolve towards you, Killian?" she asked softly, her eyes falling on his.

"I figured that I'd already accomplished that," he said smoothly. He gave her a quick wink of his eye before smiling.

Emma stared across the table at him, silently watching for a moment that lasted for a long moment.

What was she thinking? She could be an enigma sometimes. A puzzle he was dying to figure out.

"Remember how I told you that I liked you, Killian?"

He hadn't expected her to come back with the same question.

"Oh, yes, love," he assured her. "Are you going to do me the pleasure of filling my head and my heart with some of those things right now?"

"Ah… no." Emma shook her head. "I just wanted to know if you remembered or not."

Killian couldn't hold in his smile at that.

"Oh, come on," he pressed. "Make me feel better about the fact that I was forced into admitting my previous dalliances while I was a bachelor."

Emma smiled back at him. "Okay," she said slowly. She leaned over the table, looking him over and taking him all in. "I like that… you are… an honest man." Her eyes, they met his, and were solemn as he'd ever seen them. "I like… that I can trust you."

If it wasn't Emma Swan, if it had been another woman, then those words wouldn't have met as much as they did. Emma Swan and trust? It blew his mind away.

"I'm going to…" Killian was already out of his seat before it left his mouth.

He saw the slight widening of her eyes as he moved to her side of the table and knelt down at her side.

His fingers grazed over the shell of her ear on the way to twist into her hair, pulling her down to him.

"Kiss you."

Emma's mouth was receptive to his immediately, kissing him back softly.

He could kiss her forever. Just like this. He could listen to her call his name sweetly over and over again.

He could be- those fingers slipped into that spot at his nape again- hers forever.

**** 

She'd passed on the Prudential Skywalk Observatory. The view was amazing at night. Even with winter on its way, it was an amazing experience to see the whole city of Boston from seven hundred fifty feet in the sky.

"I'm sure Henry would love it," she'd shared.

"It's a great place to get some truly beautiful aerial shots," Killian had agreed.

It was getting late. It was only getting later and later. And it had made him not want to end things any time soon.

He liked the way that she had leaned into him on their way out of the restaurant. He liked the way she had let him hold hand as they stepped outside. And he liked to think it wasn't from the two glasses of wine that she'd had with dinner. It had to be her and the way she had let herself trust and believe in him.

So when she had passed on continuing their date at the truly majestic skywalk, he'd had to think of something else to entertain her.

"Are you cold?"

"No." Emma tugged at the camel coat with her free hand, tugging it over her. "I'm fine."

"Then would you like to take a quick walk before we head back?"

Emma looked up at him, her eyes bright now.

"That's fine."

"Henry's dad lives in Florida," Emma said, settling into her seat on the bench beside him. "He spends his summers with him every year."

"That's where he was that first week when you moved in," Killian concluded.

Emma turned towards him and nodded.

"Yeah."

"You were married."

Her eyes slid away from him as she nodded again. "We were married. But we divorced when Henry was just four. That's been nine years now."

"Sore subject?" he asked softly, wanting her to look back at him.

Emma did look at him, but with a blankness to her face that might have answered his question for him.

"Our divorce was amicable," she said with yet another nod. "We grew apart is all. There was never… much… ill-will toward one another. He's Henry dad. And always has been a good dad to him. We stopped being right for one another is what happened."

And what began the downward spiral…

Killian's hand squeezed at hers. "Have you ever thought… about… getting married again? Was that something that you wanted to try again?"

Marriage had to be down the pipeline for him. Eventually.

"I…" Her pause was telling. Of past hurt and self-doubt. "I don't think about it." She turned around so that she was facing him. "Odd topic for a first date, don't you think?" Her shoulder lifted a bit. "Do you want to get married, Killian?"

"Well, I can't leave it on Liam all by himself to make sure the Jones' line continues for a couple more generation," he answered with a light grin.

"Huh," she huffed.

"Huh." Killian moved against her, bringing his mouth to settle next to her ear. "What does that supposed to mean, Emma?"

Her tremble, it was not a figment of his imagination…

"Everything you've said before… It just makes me wonder what you're waiting on."

His hand tightened on hers, and his mouth stayed right there at her ear.

"Oh, that's an easy one, love," he whispered. "I've been waiting on the one."

**** 

"So do I get to invite you in or do you get the honors?"

Standing in the hallway with both doors on either side of them, Killian was opened to the idea of either apartment being fine with him.

Emma caught her lip between her teeth, keeping the smile at a minimum.

"Killian?"

"I can make a pot of coffee," he offered, stepping closer to her.

Her eyes were dancing on him, and that was a good sign. She hadn't once closed up on him. She had been open and had shared parts of herself that he hadn't been able to see before that night. But, then again, there were a lot more parts of her that were still hidden. Parts that had been only imagined in dreams.

Her arms looped around his neck. It was an open invitation to her mouth. Well, at least that's how he took it…

Killian placed a hand on her hip and pulled her into him.

It was Emma who had kissed him. Tilting her head just slightly, the heels she wore making it a lot simpler for her to find him lips, she kissed him softly.

For some reason, he had a feeling that this was supposed to be a goodnight kiss. That she was going to let him down gently and not come into his apartment and not invite him in to hers. But…

His other hand found the other side of her hip, turning her and fitting her perfectly against him. Stepping forward, he pushed her back, back, back, until she bumped against the wall of her apartment.

"Killian."

It wasn't a warning. It left her mouth as a sigh. And her arms unlinked from behind his neck, slipping back so that her hands fell over his shoulders.

Her coat was buttoned to keep out the chilly night air. But they were inside now.

Killian's hands moved up from her hips. His mouth never left hers. He never stopped kissing her as his hands went on a search for the buttons of her coat.

One… Two…

"Killian."

Three…

She was hot underneath there, between the coat and the sweater. He was sure that her skin was just as hot.

"Emma." It was like a prayer. His mouth fell from hers, sliding over her cheek as his hands moved under the sweater, touch bare skin that was silky. "We can go inside."

Her hands closed over his cheeks, smoothing down and then back up.

Damn, she hadn't touched enough of him yet…

Emma, turning his face back to hers, kissed him again. She pushed herself as much as she could off of the wall, pressing herself against him.

Damn. Not enough.

Killian pushed a hand between them, reaching for the buttons of his own coat. Too many clothes. Way too many barriers. Didn't she see that?

"Emma."

"I… can't."

Two words. Spoken against his mouth.

"I… can't… invite you in, Killian," she told him softly. Her head turned from him, creating a space between them.

"Well I can invite you in to my place."

Emma's smile turned into a laugh. A laugh that said he had misinterpreted her meaning of "can't."

"I can't, okay?" Her eyes were searching his face, wanting to find if he actually understood and was okay with that. "Inviting you in means making promises that I'm not ready for. Inviting you means more of this." She punctuated this with a run of her hand under his opened coat, and leaving a tingle to travel down the length of him. "And more of this would lead to… you know."

"Yeah." The muttered response was thick. And he tried, so very hard, to not be truly devastated by the fact that a terrific night was ending. "I understand."

Killian pulled away from her, releasing her from her trap between him and the wall.

"Are you okay with that?" Emma asked. She was still looking him over. Still trying to make up her own mind of what she could read from him.

Killian cleared his throat.

"I'm okay with that, Emma. I'm going to try to smile through it, okay?" And he smiled, albeit a small one, at her. "I have to be honest though."

"Yeah?" She was smiling. A genuine smile that seemed so light and airy. How in the hell?

"You've got me completely turned on at the moment," he told her with a bigger smile. "And being okay with your need is not the easiest thing I've been asked to do."

That earned him a laugh and bright eyes.

"But I understand," he promised her.

Emma's hand came up to touch his cheek. She watched with an intensity as it ran down to his neck.

"I like you, Killian," she whispered. "Everything tonight only proved it all the more." Her eyes fell on him. "I'm not used to this, okay? I'm not used to liking someone so much. And maybe I shouldn't. Because eventually…"

His hand closed over hers.

"I like you, too, Emma. I like you a lot." He shook his head. "So we're going to continue to get to know one another. We're going to go at whatever pace makes you feel the most comfortable. I'm not going anywhere. And you have nothing to worry about."

He saw the softening of her eyes again. The softening of her posture.

"We'll see."

It was with that that she turned away from him. Reaching inside her purse, she pulled out her key and opened the door.

Killian watched at the door opened into the apartment. He watched as she stepped away from him. And he watched as she turned back to him.

"Goodnight, Killian."

He moved to meet her in her doorway.

"Goodnight, Emma."

The goodnight kiss was a simple peck on the lips. And then he moved away from her.

Emma smiled again. She stepped back farther inside. And, with that, she closed the door behind herself.

And Killian was actually left alone in the hallway.

He couldn't decide if it was a surprising predicament to be found in, or one that he should have expected.

Damn.

He shook his head as he turned around to his apartment. His hands stuffed into his coat pocket, searching for his keys.

His right hand picked up the keys, but his left hand grabbed at the absent phone that had been put away.

The phone took precedence over making it inside. The notification of new text messages was there and multiple calls from Liam.

Killian didn't know when he'd seen so many missed calls in a row like that from Liam. Pressing his back to his door, his pulled up the messages.

The first one to come up, the last one that Liam had sent him…

Shit.

He grinned down at the picture with pride. The baby was bundled up like all newborns. It was too early to tell who exactly he looked like. He looked like!

When are you going to get your ass down here and meet your nephew?

Ruby had the baby. It looked to be not even an hour ago.

He'd missed it, but…

Killian's glanced over at Emma's apartment door. Emma.

He moved then, heading back out towards the door. He had to get to the hospital. Damn! Two damn false alarms, and she'd had the baby when his back was turned. What kind of uncle did that make him?

Still…

He pulled up her number. She'd want to know. He had to let her know…

"Already?"

Killian smiled at that. He could have imagined having walking into his apartment and already calling her.

"No, not already. Emma, Ruby had the baby while we were out. It's a boy. I have a nephew!"

"Oh my God! Congratulations. For real this time."

"Thanks." He was running now. Running to the car. "I'm headed to the hospital now. I just wanted to let you know."

"Well it's a good thing I didn't let you in," she told him softly.

He wouldn't have went that far.

"I had a great time tonight, Emma," he told her. "I hope that you did as well."

She was quiet for a moment. Why?

"I did, Killian," she finally said. It was quiet, too. "It was really nice. Every part of it."

"Emma." Another damn… She was doing things to him that were unexpected. Never had he expected. "I feel the same way. I… I will text you later, okay?"

"Okay." It was with a smile in her voice. She really was happy. "Send pics."

"Will do. Good night, Emma."

"Good night, Killian."

The phone disconnected, but it didn't stop the connection he had to him.

Completely unexpected. But he wouldn't have wanted it any other way.


	12. Chapter 11

She liked his apartment. She liked… that it had felt like a home. That had been something to get used to. The two apartments were nearly identical in makeup, but there was a distinction in what he had done with the place.

She hadn't expected that the first time she had come over. She remembered her initial shock and the reason for it.

Emma glanced across the room, her eyes resting on Killian with her son at the table. Their heads were both bowed, seemingly in deep discussion over the pictures that had been recently developed. It had been a passing hobby of Henry's, this photography thing. It was something that she had not thought that would hold his attention in the way that it had. But…

Killian had encouraged it. Killian had went the extra steps in offering resources to Henry. He worked with people whose profession was photography. He was always up to idea of exploring different places and different things to shoot to just further the craft.

Killian had bonded with her son. Had made a friend out of Henry. A friendship that had been separate from that of theirs.

The first time that she had come over, it had been with a heated misgiving and feelings of mistrust. It had been a blinder towards being able to appreciate everything that had been in front of her.

It was sudden, as she found herself deep in thought…

Killian's head turned, popping up and turning in her direction. There was something in those blue eyes. Something that she couldn't quite define as he winked at her.

He did something to her heart, she realized, watching as he turned his attention back to the table and the pictures.

When was she going to regret it? When was she going to realize that she was opening up too much to someone? When was it going to hit her that happiness and Emma Swan did not go hand and hand?

Was this right? Sometimes… sometimes, no…

Because she was Emma Swan. She was the woman who kept everything and everyone at a distance. She was the woman who knew that certain things weren't meant for her. That they couldn't be.

And then… Sometimes, yes…

Because he was Killian Jones. He was the man who had wanted nothing from her but… her. He made it seem as if she was enough. Doubts and fears and issues. She was enough. And he liked her. He really liked her.

Emma felt the chill run through her body at that thought. Scary.

Didn't he know her? He did know her. And… he liked her.

Emma wrapped her arms around herself, hugging herself tightly as she turned away from them. Her eyes scanned the rest of the room. She took in the paintings that hung there for more than just decoration. It was an expression of him. She took in the drawing books- she had already counted three in the room. Another part of Killian Jones.

So many facets to the man… And she… she liked them all.

Emma threw a quick look back over at him. And…

She was throwing caution to the wind. Sometimes it was easy to be alone. Sometimes, alone was the fate that she had been dealt. And then there were other times that she realized that alone was the fate that she had dealt herself. Killian made her feel as if it didn't have to be that way…

It was amazing whenever she let herself believe it as well as feel it…

****

"All done?"

The question made her sigh. She was sure that he hadn't meant anything explicit in his question. He had only wanted to know if she was finished with dinner. It was just that…

He was incredibly close while sitting on the couch next to her. Close enough for his shoulder and knee to bump against hers as he turned into her.

"Um…"

Emma's gaze slid from Killian to look at Henry. Where she would have normally discouraged the distraction of the iPad being out and used at the same time they were having dinner, she silently thanked God that he'd been focused somewhere else. Until he looked up at her from his seat in the chair across from them...

He only gave her a hint of a smile- it couldn't have been a knowing smile- before he turned back to the screen.

"All done," Emma sighed, turning back to Killian. "Yes, I am."

It was only her imagination that he was looking at her mouth. Or only her imagination that he was looking at her as if he wanted to kiss her right then and there.

He was still watching her. For a solid moment, he stared at her with a smile on his face. And then he moved.

"Then I'll clean all of this up."

Killian was grabbing at the empty containers spread out on the coffee table that were all left from the Chinese take-out.

"Unless you want to give me a hand, love."

His eyes slid back towards her, a twinkle and something else being found there.

Emma tried to ignore the way he said it. She tried to ignore the endearment that she knew was generic and used for everyone else. But it was the look on his face that had actually drawn her in. The look that made her wonder if maybe, just maybe, he had been looking at her mouth with thoughts of kissing her.

"Sure." She shook her head as she stood up from the couch.

"Oh." Killian straightened. "Can you grab my phone that was beside me? I can show you the pictures of Connor that Liam sent."

Emma turned then, finding the phone on the other end of the couch. She slipped it into the back pocket of her pants before moving to the table.

He'd already grabbed up most of the trash. It was a one-person job, she was sure. But, with just one more glance at Henry as he slid through windows on the iPad, she picked up the glasses and plates that he'd left.

It wasn't an everyday occurrence. It wasn't this thing where they needed to share dinner together as a threesome. But some nights…

It's why she had looked back at Henry. She knew that he liked Killian. She knew that they got along well. So what did it mean to be this open in front of him? What did it look like to everyone, involved or not, to see this setting?

Emma followed Killian as he led them into the kitchen. She might not know what it looked like on the outside, but from the inside it looked… It looked really nice from the inside…

She passed by him, moving slowly towards the sink, each step careful as she tried to make sure her mind didn't go anywhere that it didn't need to go.

She felt him slip behind her a moment before she felt his bearded cheek graze her own. His lips planted a quick kiss there, holding for all of a second.

"I've wanted to kiss you for an hour and forty-seven minutes now," Killian murmured softly into her ear.

If she let herself think about it, she tried not to let herself think about it, then Emma was sure that she would have been waiting just as long for that kiss.

Standing behind her, Killian placed a hand on the sink, trapping her between the two. It was the smallest things that got her heart to race…

Emma started to turn, but he stopped her with his other hand falling to her waist. It slid across to her back and began a trail farther down.

"Ah, here we go."

His phone slipped from her pocket then, grabbed up by him.

"I can show you the pictures."

It made Emma smile. It was a good thing that she hadn't let her mind wander any farther…

She finally turned around in his arms, still trapped by that arm that held on to the sink. It was with a shake of her head that she tried to clear her mind of invading thoughts. Thoughts of Killian.

He was close. Close enough to appreciate the stains of pink high in his cheeks. Close enough to make out that scare on his left cheek. How had he gotten it? She had yet to ask just yet. She was close enough to those pinker than pink lips that were pursed as he flipped through his phone. The same lips that had kissed her. The same lips that she had grown to know on an intimate level. She was close enough to make out the reddish hue of his beard. The same beard that always felt good under her hands and on her skin.

It was all of a sudden that he looked up at her. All of a sudden that he had turned those blue eyes on her.

A second passed. Then he smiled.

"What are you thinking about, Emma?"

She was slow to shake her head. "Nothing." Because it was a bit embarrassing to be fawning over the man. Just a man.

Killian watched her quietly. His eyes travelling over her face, pinpointing on certain spots.

Sometimes it felt as if he knew what she was thinking. And sometimes that wasn't a good thing. Emma was sure that there was now a tinge of pink in her own cheeks at that thought.

"To hell with the pictures," Killian murmured lightly. The phone fell on the counter next to the sink, and she was once again trapped in his arms.

His mouth fell over hers, kissing her softly.

It was the kiss she wanted. Hints of hunger hidden under the guise of propriety. Her son was a room away. Still… Her hands came up to stroke the hair-roughened cheeks that felt so good.

When did she become this person? Well… Emma always loved the idea of love…

She pushed that thought and him away. Not…

"I would like to see Connor," Emma said softly, turning her head away from him.

There was a low growl that escaped from somewhere down deep. And if she could leave him a little frustrated after having her own thoughts turn, well…

Killian's bottom lip was enveloped with his teeth, fighting back the urge to grin.

"Yeah, well."

He grabbed at the abandoned phone with a sigh. Unlocking the screen, the picture of baby Connor, in all his glory, appeared front and center.

That was all it had taken though. The smile of Killian's face was one of pride now as he looked down at the screen.

"Does it feel like nearly three weeks to you?"

That question had a lot of meaning to her.

That night had not only signified Connor's birth, but had signified a defining moment in their relationship.

Nearly three weeks ago…

"Yeah, it feels like it."

Had he picked up on something in her tone? Killian looked at her again, his eyes pinpointing once again.

Maybe it was from being this close to him. Maybe the amount of time that had passed had been inescapable, causing her thoughts to always be conflicted about it.

"I can see you in him," Emma said quietly. She looked down at the picture that had to have been taken within the last day or so. "Rather, he looks like Liam."

"Aye, I see a lot of Liam," Killian agreed. "A Jones, that is for sure."

He was wrapped up in nothing but a blanket. His eyes were closed in this picture, but Emma remembered the trait that was visibly Ruby's. They were green, like his mother's. The soft hair on his head was a sandy color. She wasn't sure which way it was going to go just yet. But it was the nose and the chin that could not be denied. Emma would agree: a Jones, for sure.

"Liam did it," Killian said with a laugh. "Secured a new generation."

"Proud uncle Killian, huh?"

He laughed again, flipping through the pictures.

"Proud Uncle Killian."

It was something about the way he laughed. It was something about the way he watched with a pride and happiness that couldn't be denied. It was the fact that family had been everything. He was genuine. True. Qualities that she…

"So Ruby asked about you." He looked up at her then, an eyebrow raising.

It made her squirm. That statement could have led to anywhere.

"She would love it if I brought you over with me to see Connor. You'll get to finally meet him in person. And see how amazing he is."

It was also the way he incorporated her into his life. It was with little effort. It was as if it was the most natural thing to do.

"I'd like that." She wouldn't second guess it. It would have been so easy to do the back and forth thing…

"Really?" Killian straightened up at that. Maybe it had been a pleasant surprise to him at how easy it had been.

It only made her cave in somewhat. Her shoulders hunched, closing in on herself.

"Really."

"Emma?" The smile on his face was small as he put the pictures of the baby away. The phone slipped into his own pocket then, and he turned that smile on her. "You know how I've told you that you sometimes blow my mind?"

He'd said it before…

"Yeah?"

"Well…" Killian's stretched his arms to entrap her again, pressing his body against hers. "You just did it again."

Emma felt it in her heart, the way it began to speed up. She spared the doorway to the kitchen only the quickest of glances before…

Her eyes closed, turning her face back into his. She felt the bump of his nose against hers, a soft caress that felt like… more. It was the fact that he took his time. It was because his lips ran across her cheek with silent… promises.

Sometimes it was hard to look back. Sometimes it was hard to deny that feelings were- no!- had come into play. Because here she was…

His lips were firm against hers. A kiss that promised and appreciated.

How had…

Emma would probably always question it. That was just who she was. But it didn't mean that her kiss couldn't be full of promises and appreciation as well.

She kissed him back. In the moment, she was able and willing to give as much as she received.

**** 

"I think I'm going to ask Dad about this camera."

Henry bounced down on her bed with iPad in hand.

"It's not too expensive, I don't think." He looked up at her from her spot by the dresser. "Not like some of the others. If I say that it's the only thing that I want, do you think he'd get it?"

Knowing Neal?

"I'm sure you can get him to get it for you," she assured him.

Although Henry didn't use it to his advantage, or at least he didn't abuse the idea of it, Neal was one of those parents who would have liked to fill the gaps of his absence with things if at all possible. So as a gift, she was sure that he wouldn't mind spending a little bit more to make his son happy from so many miles away.

Emma crossed her arms over her chest as she looked him over.

"You're having a lot of fun with all of this, huh?"

Henry nodded. "Yeah. And it's all because of Killian." He looked up at her then. "I'm really glad that things happened like they did."

That made her curious.

"What do you mean?" Even asking the question made her a bit nervous.

"I'm glad that you didn't make us stop talking and hanging out," he answered her innocently enough. "I didn't know if you were going to stay mad at him and never talk to him. But now?"

It was the way he had said but now…

"But now what?" Emma asked him.

"Now…" Henry rolled his eyes and the smile on his face was bigger than it should have been. "You two like each other. It's like you two more than like each other. Mom?"

Okay, now she was more than uncomfortable. Every time she thought that she saw herself letting him in a little more, she saw it as a positive. Except when she was confronted by it by someone else.

"Henry?" She said his name slowly. Carefully.

"I like him a lot better than I ever liked Walsh."

His statement came out of nowhere. The comparison of Walsh to Killian… It signified things that she knew her son must have been thinking. And she didn't know if she wanted him to be thinking of Killian in those terms. Because if Henry was thinking about Killian on the level that he'd thought of Walsh- and who Walsh had been in her life- then it would only intensify those thoughts in her own head.

"I can see why you would like Killian more than you liked Walsh, but there is really no comparison, Henry," Emma told him softly. "They are completely different and your situations with them are just as different."

"Okay, Mom," he told her softly. But, again, it was the way he had said it. As if he had already formulated his opinion on the matter. And that Emma wasn't going to blind him to what was right in front of them all.

****

**10:07p.m.**

****

****

_What are you doing?_

__

__

_**Nothing. Just getting out of the shower.** _

_****_

_****_

_I was thinking about you. ___

_**What were you thinking?** _

_****_

_****_

_Lots of things._

__

__

_**Sounds pretty vague.** _

_****_

_****_

_Oh, not vague in the least._

__

__

_I had a good time tonight._

__

__

_**So did I.** _

_****_

_****_

_**I hope we're not confusing my son.** _

_****_

_****_

_Why would you say that? Did he say something?_

__

__

_**Typical comments and questions, I guess, when we spend as much time talking as we do.** _

_****_

_****_

_And what is the confusing part, Emma?_

__

__

_**You know.** _

_****_

_****_

_I've never had to explain my intentions of dating to someone before. Especially to a teenager._

__

__

_**Did you just put a title on us? "Dating."** _

_****_

_****_

_Title? I would categorize it as the situation. Dating. Does that sound wrong?_

__

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_Does it sound like too much?_

__

__

_**Not when you put it like that.** _

_****_

_****_

_Good._

__

__

_I like dating you._

__

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_**I like getting to know you.** _

_****_

_****_

_**I like a lot of things about you.** _

_****_

_****_

_There is a lot more of me to get to know AND to like about me._

__

__

_**Am I supposed to be reading something into that? It sounds boastful.** _

_****_

_****_

_But definitely not misleading._

__

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_Where's Henry?_

__

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_**He's asleep.** _

_****_

_****_

_Sounds promising._

__

__

_**Why promising?** _

_****_

_****_

_I want to hear your voice in my ear._

__

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_**What does that have to do with Henry being asleep?** _

_****_

_****_

_I want to be able to feel you at the same time your voice is in my ear._

__

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_Do you feel up to coming over for a while?_

__

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_**I'd love to hear your voice, too.** _

_****_

_****_

_And what about being able to feel me at the same time, Emma?_

__

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_**I'd love that, too.** _

_****_

_****_

_**Give me five minutes?** _

_****_

_****_

_The door will be open for you._

_  
_

**** 

"Hey."

The door had been opened, but he was right there waiting for her.

It was something about the way he looked at her. There was a hint of guard about him. Not like hers. As if there was something that he had to keep at bay within himself.

There was a nervous tension running through her. It was because of… many things. Texting allowed meanings to be misinterpreted. She didn't know if she was misinterpreting him. Except his eyes seemed to agree. To agree with everything that she had wanted, but had been too afraid to commit to.

"You wanted to see me?" The question left her mouth quietly. The nervousness was only growing.

His eyes looked hungry. A quiet hunger that was far from sated. She could relate, because she felt…

They had been doing this dance for a long time now. He had been patient with her. Never pushing or suggesting. And she had appreciated it. Even in those moments where she knew it would have taken nothing but the tiniest push in the right direction.

"How are you doing?" Killian asked the question with a smile. He was unmoving, standing some feet away from her and the door.

"I'm…" There were many answers to that as well. "Fine."

His forehead crinkled at that response, and his lips puckered.

"I should be honest with you," he told her slowly. He nodded. "I can be honest with you, right, Emma?"

She took in a deep and involuntary breath of air.

"You should be honest with me," she agreed. "It's one of the things I like most about you."

Killian nodded again, slowly, as he stared at her.

"Honesty. Okay. Emma?" The frown deepened even more. "I'm a little less than fine."

She hadn't expected that response. A response that could have meant…

"What's wrong?"

Killian paused at the question, taking another moment to just watch her.

"The thing is..." The murmur was followed by a sweep of his thumb over his lip, before that hand fell out in front of her. "I want you."

Her chin lifted, taking in the solemnity of his tone. Because for all the ways that they had tiptoed around the idea since the end of their first date, he'd kept the fact that there was a want out of the equation. But…

It wasn't hard to see. It had never been difficult to see. So the need to be honest laid at her feet.

It had been a very long time for her. She had her pick of reasons. Didn't he understand what he was asking from her? Because she understood what she was asking of herself. She was asking herself to let someone new in completely. Because this would mean completely. Wholeheartedly. This meant no going back.

"I want you, too."

It was an admission that called for all bets to be off.

"Thank you."

It had rushed out of his mouth gutturally. There was a twinkle in his eye that disappeared just as quickly as it had appeared. It was replaced by that same fierce desire that had been there before. Only this time, there was no need for barriers.

He covered the distance between them in the matter of a second, his mouth finding hers and his hands reaching around and claiming her ass without a bit of hesitation.

Why had that taken her by surprise? Why had the energy he'd expelled in taking her surprised her?

Emma gasped into his mouth, shaking already as she returned his kiss. This was different. Her hands clawed at his shoulders, she tried to match his intensity, sliding around his neck and dragging him even closer. He was different.

Killian was always a body of hard muscle, but his arms felt like a steel vice as he held her against him. And he had never grabbed at her that way. His hands moving over her bottom, pressing her against his hardness.

She felt the nervous tension entering her body and her mind. It was the feel of a hand crawling inside the pajama bottoms. Crawling inside her panties. His hand was already roaming and cupping at her bare ass, dragging her over him, when that other hand dug inside. This one didn't follow the lead of the first. The elastic bands of both pajamas and panties were stretched out, no longer making contact with one side of her waist. The hunger of his kiss was distracting, but…

Emma felt the way both hands splayed over her hips, stretching the cloth all the more. They stayed just like that for a short moment, swaying her hips so that she brushed against that hardness.

She heard the sharp intake of breath as his mouth broke away from hers.

"Am I going too fast for you?" he murmured thickly, his lips a whisper against her skin.

Killian. She hadn't put on the brakes. She hadn't stopped him or them. It was him. He had stopped to ask if he was moving too fast. For her.

Emma shook her head, her eyes meeting his.

"No. We're not going too fast."

He watched her, to make sure. But she saw the fire in that gaze.

Emma brought her hand up to the back of his head, her fingers threading through the hair at the nape of his neck. She watched as his eyes slid closed with a sigh on his lips, loving that she had an affect on him. She affected him. It was the thought she had as she brought his head down, taking his lips with her own, and kissing him.

What started out as slow, with each holding the other pressed to them, quickly heated up again. Heated up and spilled over into something more. Something that could no longer be contained.

A ravenous mouth sipped at hers. A hard as steel arm wrapped around her back. A quick and fluid hand pulled at the pajamas and panties together, pulling them down from waist and over hips. Before she had time to process the magnitude of all of those things, before her clothes had a chance to slip to her feet, she was being lifted. He was lifting her off her feet and into his arms.

Her eyes slammed shut at the feel of her back slamming into the door. God! Why did that feel so good? Why did gripping at his hips as he fit his body against hers feel so damn good? Why did the feel of one hand cupping her thigh as he kissed her breathless have her head swimming?

"Oh, damn."

She'd moaned it out loud, she knew. His answer had been a low growl and a thrust of his middle into hers. Did he have to fit so damned perfectly?

It was all of a sudden. Emma felt his fingers right there. The stiffening of her back as it pressed against the door and the tightening of her legs around his hips was instinctual. She wasn't a virgin. She wasn't virginal. It was just that… it had been so many years….

"Oh, Emma, you're…"

She was grateful that he hadn't finished that thought. She felt the blush creeping over every inch of her skin.

His mouth was back on hers, his kiss deep and intense. But it was difficult to concentrate just on that.

Her body was a betrayer. Her body had become an instant lover of his, because…

Her mouth opened in a gasp at the feel of his fingers against her. An insistent mouth had nothing on insistent fingers.

"I don't want to stop." The groan tore out of Killian as if the act of stopping would kill him instantly.

Why would he say that?

"Don't stop."

It was the only encouragement he needed. A finger slid just inside of her, and…

Emma squeezed her eyes shut, but the whimper couldn't be stopped. The shudder, as he slid his finger out and then back in even deeper, was uncontrollable.

Maybe he should have stopped. Maybe this was wrong. Because it felt too…

"Ooh!" It was a shuddered moan.

No, it was right. Never stop. Because it felt…

"Killian!" Her mouth shut tight, swallowing another moan that threatened to escape at the feel of his fingers.

"Emma, please."

There was an increasing amount of pressure building up inside of her. Too much pressure too soon.

"Don't hold back," he muttered. His hips were moving in time with the now two fingers that were pressing in and out of her. "Come for me… just like this, Emma. Please."

Why was he… God! So much pressure! God! It felt too good!

She felt it building up in her. She felt it already, with just his fingers sliding inside her over and over again. She felt the tremors beginning to take her over at the feel of his thumb caressing that sensitive nub at the same time.

"Killian!" It was a whimper of pure confusion.

"Yes, Emma." His face buried into the crook of her neck, pressing closer against her and into her at the same time.

Too deep. Too expertly.

"I… Killian!"

"Will you come for me, Emma?"

Why?

She gave up. She couldn't hold it back any longer ( _good girl, Emma _). Feeling the way her eyes rolled to the back of her head( _yes, Emma _), hearing the cry leave her mouth( _come just for me _), she held on tight to him as the orgasm washed over every part of her ( _yes, Emma _).________

Why? The orgasm was intense, wracking her body with shudders and leaving her clenching over those fingers inside her. Leaving her clutching at every part of him that she could.

Killian, holding up the entire weight of her body, pressed her into the door. A smattering of incoherent words of praise was mumbled against her neck. A trail of kisses from ear to cheek followed.

God, what had he done to her?

"Killian?" Emma was slow to open her eyes. "Killian?"

"Yes?"

Taking in gulps of air, she waited until he pulled back to look at her.

"Emma?"

Slowly, and without any embarrassment(she refused to be embarrassed), she loosened her grip on his waist. Her eyes fell to a spot on his shoulder as she let herself slip down away from him, detaching her body from his. Refused still, as she felt her pajama pants that were pooled on the floor at her feet.

What in the hell had he just done to her?

"Love?"

Emma looked back up at him. His darkened eyes were scanning over her, his hands almost but not quite touching hers.

"Are you okay?"

He wanted to touch her. She knew that he wanted to touch her. She saw it in the slight tremor of his hands that were so close to her. She saw it in his eyes, which were a mix of lust and caution.

He was waiting for her.

"I'm okay." Standing there half naked in front of him, she was okay. Standing before him after he'd… She was sure that she was most likely glowing, as well as tingling, from what had just happened.

"Are you-"

Emma grabbed at his hands, pulling them around her waist. She stopped his question with a kiss. Holding on to him, her lips slipped over his, kissing him softly.

She wondered what the tremor in him signified. Had he feared that she would want to turn and run? Understandable, if so. But she didn't want to turn and run…

Her hands slid slowly up his arms, feeling the smoothness from over the steeliness.

"Don't stop, okay?"

"God dammit, Emma." The murmur was sandwiched between kisses, those arms closing around her and squeezing tight. Then his hands were on the move. They ran down her hips, digging into her firmly. Her name slipped from his mouth, over and over, as he caressed her.

The ache was starting all over again at the feel of his hands over her. Emma heard her own moans as her eyes squeezed shut.

"Emma."

Her hands came up to reach for him, before…

He began to turn her. The hands smoothing over her hips began to twist and turn her. His mouth fell over her neck, kissing his way to the back once he'd finally turned her completely around.

There was a nervous tension washing over her as she placed her hands, instead of on him, on the door. Her eyes opened just slightly, listening to the harried unbuckling on the belt, unfastening of the button, the pulling down of the zipper from behind her. They shut tight once more, with a rushing of air out of her body, as his arm closed around her waist and dragging her back against him.

If it hadn't felt so right, so good, would she have stopped him?

Killian. His hands. His mouth.

Emma whimpered at the feel of him against her. He was a man who could take charge, she mused, loving the way his grasped her arm and shackled it to the door with his own. Loving the feel of his weight as he leaned into her. Loving the way he nibbled at her ear…

The whimper was close to a cry now…

Three years…

And oh how quickly her body had betrayed her!

She pressed back, shuddering at once at the feel of him.

Three years…

And all she wanted was him…

All of a sudden, his arm stiffened around her waist. His mouth moved from her ear and pressed, instead, hard into her shoulder and pausing there. He pulled back away from her.

"Emma, I'm sorry."

He'd stopped to… apologize?

"What?" It was a moan of frustration. She wanted the weight of his body against her. And he had pulled away.

"I shouldn't have…" Killian's entire weight gone. His mouth disappeared from her shoulder, and his arms that had been around her waist and pressed against her own on the door were gone.

"It was just… that I needed you."

Emma, confused and feeling disheveled, turned back to face him.

"Then have me." It was a whine borne from needing more of him. She was in need of him. All of him. What had he done to her? Because she was in need to give all of herself.

Killian searched her face, his eyes locking on her. There was a string of curses that fell from his mouth as he grabbed at her hand.

"I don't want to stop. It's just…"

Emma felt her eyes widen in expectation. In wait.

"You deserve better than a rushed and heated moment against a door," he finally told her softly, pulling her into him.

And she could breathe again. Because he wasn't stopping.

"At least as a first time." Killian was able to offer her an easy smile before it turned into something else. Something much more than easy. "Come on."

Emma let him pull her away from the door. He wanted to take her to his bed. But…

"No."

Killian was quick to turn around to her.

"What?"

"Here," she whispered. "We're right here." Her eyes slid across on the couch that was only feet away versus rooms away. "I don't want to wait."

There was a question on his face, but a glint in his eyes.

"You, Emma Swan…" His arm was around her waist, pushing her back in the direction she wanted to go in. "Are a marvel."

Her smile was hidden in their kiss. A kiss that set her body off and yearning already.

"Damn… Emma?"

She felt the back of her legs bump up against the couch even as he spoke.

"What?" Her arms wrapped around his neck, ready and willing for him to lie her down on that couch with him following right after her.

"Promise me something, love." It was oddly grave. Important. Important enough to leave them hanging precariously over the couch.

"Promise what?"

His lips found hers, kissing her softly on their way down.

Soft kiss. Promising kiss. Aching kiss. A kiss that brought back memories of what he could do to her.

"Promise me…" Killian's hand gripped at her bare thigh, running the entire length of her leg. "That this isn't a one-time thing. Promise me that you will remember this _tomorrow _. No matter if it's by text, by phone call, or in person. Promise me you won't forget this."__

Emma had watched him during the entirety of him sharing his request. She focused on his words and not the way his weight felt unbelievably wonderful. Or how it didn't matter that her pajama top reached to mid-thigh, but in reality she was half-naked and he was completely clothed. No. She focused on his words.

"I promise." She promised. Maybe too easily.

"God dammit, Emma." His mouth fell over hers then, pressing her down on the couch with his weight. "I'm holding you to that, love."

And that was scary. His needs.

She'd promised.

But for now…

Killian's mouth. His hands. His body. His moan.

He was an escape that every part of her needed.


	13. Chapter 12

Killian recognized the distinctive knock on the door, glancing over that way. He was early, he realized as he hefted his satchel down on the couch in front of him.

"It's open," he called out, loud enough to be heard beyond the door.

It made him smile to see Henry walking into the apartment, all smiles himself.

"Hey, Killian." Henry sounded just as excited as he looked. It was going to be cold outside. Even colder as they made their way up to the observatory. At least he was bundled up in preparation for it.

"Hey, Henry." Killian's smile grew. "Are you all ready to go?"

"I'm all ready." He said it with a shrug and bright eyes. "I wanted to say thanks, too, Killian, for letting my friend come along."

"All in more fun, yes?" Henry had wanted to bring a friend, and it had seemed like a good sign. He took it as meaning that their friendship was a cool one. One that didn't have to be hidden or glanced over to his peers. A good sign.

Henry nodded at that. "It's going to be great. The whole day is going to be great. I've been to the observatory before, of course. But never to be able to takes pictures. Well, not with a real camera or anything."

"Ah, the camera." Killian grabbed at his coat that was lying on the couch beside the bag.

"What?" There was an instant curiosity about Henry at that moment, his head quirking as he watched him. "You were able to get it, weren't you?"

Killian watched him as he slipped into his coat, keeping the smile down to a minimum. There was something to be said about seeing a joy in Henry and being able to share in that something. The fact that it was something that Killian had had a hand in only made it a greater achievement. Their friendship hadn't been about Emma. No, not at all. It was about them. So to have both entities, to have Henry as a friend who looked up at him in a mentoring way and to have him be the son of the woman he… Well, it was a uniqueness that he was quite fond of.

"I have the camera," he assured him.

The curiosity was replaced by a look of excitement on the boy's face. An excitement at the prospect of an afternoon filled with gazing out and capturing their beautiful city.

"In fact," Killian continued, "it's back there in my bedroom on the dresser. Why don't you run back there and get it while I finish getting ready."

"On your dresser?" He was moving already. "Okay. I'll be right back."

Killian smiled to himself again as he watched Henry move across the room. It wasn't only about the idea of them getting along. It wasn't only about being able to connect with the boy on some level. There was also a bit of pride about the situation. Pride in Henry and the young lad that he was. Pride in the strength and character of Emma's son.

He didn't have the family dynamics that his brother had. But, for some reason, there was a growing dynamic in the relationships he had with Henry and Emma that sort of filled that void. A strange occurrence, if he let himself think on it too long. A nice occurrence though, as he thought on what they'd both brought to him.

His mind conjured up thoughts of her. An improper thought, at first. A memory of a night that rivaled any previous dream… He only let the thought stay for a second, being bombarded of other things about her that he had deemed so intriguing. The way she had opened up to him. The way she touched him softly and looked at him with eyes that were open to… so much.

What had happened to the closed-off neighbor of long ago? How had he did the impossible? Or maybe it was she who had done the impossible, in him.

The ringing phone from off was what took him from his musings.

Killian finished adjusted the coat, buttoning himself into it, before he scooped the ringing phone into his hand.

The intake of breath was sudden, his mind turning in all directions by the name presented to him.

It had been… It had been a long time. It had definitely been before Emma. And before Emma seemed like so long ago…

Ignoring the call would be one thing. But it wouldn't put a stop to it. Maybe… It was Emma's eyes that came to mind. Maybe putting a stop to it- putting a stop to them- was exactly the right thing to do. So… answer the phone.

"Hello."

"Hello to you, too." Her voice was a soft whisper. It was inviting and definitely friendly.

"Jessica. How are you, darling?"

He had liked her. She had always been easy to get along with. Alluring and lovely. Yet… there was no comparison.

"I've been okay," Jessica assured him. "I just haven't been in touch with you in a while."

Well, she hadn't called him and he hadn't called her…

"It's been quite some time," Killian murmured in agreement.

And then it began. He listened to each word with caution, hearing and knowing what exactly was coming. The question came as to where did he stop her. When did he make her pause about how work has been going, how nights have been a little lonelier the past few week or so, or how there was only one solution to that problem?

Killian offered a small laugh into the phone.

"Jessica, love?"

"When are you going to make time for me, Killian?" Ah, and there it was!

Killian heard the steps falling from the hallway. Of course it didn't take long for Henry to grab the camera bag and bound back out of the room. Especially when it was the start of their day together.

"Jessica, that's going to be a problem, love," Killian said quietly into the phone.

He saw Henry then. He saw how the bag was hugged against his chest, holding it close to him.

"What is the problem?"

Jessica's confused question, and the expectant look on Henry's face, made him feel trapped in a situation that he was not ready for.

"Are you ready to go now, Killian?"

"Killian?"

"One minute, okay?" he said into the phone. "Henry?" He pointed a finger at the boy. "I only have to finish this call. And then we can be on our way."

Henry was slow to nod, possibly wondering why there had been a change in him.

"Okay, Killian."

"Why don't you go and take your bag and the camera out to the car?" he told him, moving then towards the door. "I'll be right out."

Henry didn't move as fast as Killian had. His steps were slow as he looked up at him.

"Right out," Killian assured him with a smile.

"I'll be outside waiting then." Henry offered him a shrug on his way out of the door. He didn't look at him this time, making the trip down the hall.

Killian eyed him the entire time. He waited until the door opened and Henry made in onto the porch before he brought the phone back to his ear.

"Jessica." It came out as a sigh.

"You seem busy," she said lightly. Not miffed, but there seemed to be a twinge of something in her voice.

"I'm sorry about not giving you my attention, love." He said it sincerely. He meant it just as sincerely. He didn't know how she would take the news.

"It's okay," Jessica assured him. He heard the smile in her voice. He heard the demure coming back. "I'm not surprised that you're busy. I figured that it must be part of the reason I haven't heard from you. I do believe that this is the longest I've gone without talking to you."

The smile crept onto his face. She had been one of his favorites.

"There's something that I must be honest with you about, Jessica," he told her slowly. Coming right out seemed like the best idea.

"What is it?"

She didn't expect anything. Didn't expect that their last time was going to be… their last time.

"Ah… Jessica?"

"What is wrong with you, Killian?" Spit it out, was what she was saying.

"Okay." He paused again. When was the last time he'd had to confess about a relationship to one of his women friends?

"Jessica, I'm not going to be able to see you," he told her. It had been sincere and apologetic. "Not anymore."

"What are you-"

"I've met someone," he cut in, not giving her a chance to ask the question.

Where he'd thought her questions would have run all together, there was instead a pause.

"You've met someone?" Jessica asked slowly. "Are you telling me that the great Killian Jones is trying to settle down and be a one-woman kind of a man?"

A one-woman kind of a man. It made him smile again. Emma Swan as that one woman.

"You could say that, love," he whispered into the phone.

It was the entire package. It was the fact that she felt the need to keep so much in for only herself. It was the fact that she had let him in, so gradually. But she'd done it. It was the bits of humor she allowed herself to share. It was the way she gave herself. And she was beginning to give so much of herself.

"Killian?" It was full of skepticism, the way she said his name.

It had drew him back into her though. Jessica. Beautiful. Vivacious. But… no comparison could be drawn.

"Yes?"

She sighed. "I didn't see this coming."

Who had?

"I'm going to miss you. And our nights together. Are you…" She sighed again. "Are you really sure about this?"

She'd asked if he was sure? It was the way she asked.

"I'm sure." It came out as a laugh. There was no doubt.

"So I won't get any late night calls a month or so down the line telling me that you've changed you mind?"

It made him squint, the idea of that possibly happening.

"No." Killian shook his head to himself. "I don't think so."

"Well, damn it." The curse was soft as well. "I guess we will see. And I guess I should let you go now."

Yes, that would be the way Jessica would have responded.

"I do have some things I'm in the middle of."

"This is it then, Killian. Goodbye."

She had been a staple in his life and in his bed, however frequently or infrequently, for the longest time. And now it was over.

"Goodbye, Jessica."

Killian heard the click of the phone in his ear, signifying more than just the end of the phone call. It was ending more that the singular relationship. What is was was the beginning of something. And part of that something was waiting for him outside.

He dropped the phone into his coat pocket, forgetting it for now. The satchel was still on the couch. It was a quick stop back at the couch, a quick grab of his bag.

Henry was waiting. And the day was just beginning.

****

"He's sleeping, Killian."

And in his arms. It was an amazing thing to see. How could he not think of what the future held for not only this tiny one, but also what the future held for his entire family? A family that was on the rise.

He looked over at Ruby, who was curled up into a ball on the couch. Connor might have been asleep, but the heaviness of her eyes told the tale of who was beyond tired.

"Aye, he's asleep." Killian's arms tightened around the quiet bundle, holding him closer to him.

"That means that you don't need to be holding him," Ruby said quietly. Her sudden and wide yawn stretched over her mouth being, covered belatedly with a hand.

"If I don't hold him when he's sleeping, then I'd never hold him," he remarked, shaking his head.

It earned him a laugh. A hysterical little laugh that had her head falling to the armrest.

Killian drew his eyes over to Liam, who came to stand behind her. There wasn't a smile there on his face. Instead, a sympathetic gaze down at his wife.

"May I guess?"

"His sleeping schedule… hasn't come quite together yet," Liam admitted. His hand came down over the top of Ruby's head. "He's up more often during the night than he is during the day."

"Is that so?" Killian's gaze fell back down over the baby in his arms. "Are you being a challenge already to your mom and dad? Well, that sounds about right, yes?"

Tiny. Connor was a tiny bundle. That was amazing. It was amazing that life started out like this right here: a tiny little thing that was dependent on those around him, to be taken care of for every single detail. To give life to the Jones' name, it meant this right here. And one day… maybe it would be his duty and privilege to add a branch to their tree. One day.

Killian looked back up at the new parents. Ruby, with her face buried into the arm of the couch, and Liam, leaning slightly over the back of it, both looked wary. The newness of the experience telling its tale.

"Don't you know that you are supposed to sleep when the baby sleeps?" he asked, offering an amused smile to the both of them. "Even I know that."

"You're very smart, Killian." The tone spoke of something loathsome.

The teasing was warranted, he thought. But seeing the dead exhaustion of his sister-in-law left a soft spot in his heart.

"Liam, why don't you tell your wife to take her butt to bed?" Killian asked with a grin. "You're about to pass out. Go do it somewhere comfortable."

"Ruby?" Liam leaned over the couch, his hand smoothing down from the top of her head to cup her cheek. "Killian is right. Why don't you go lie down in bed? I'll take care of Connor."

"Who will probably sleep during my entire visit anyway," Killian chimed in.

Her face turned up towards her husband. It was as if the suggestion had been so tempting and lucrative that she let the tiredness bleed out.

"Are you sure?"

It put a smile on Liam's face. His hand smoothed down her cheek again before he leaned down to kiss her.

"No need to worry. I'll take care of him."

"And he has me here for backup," Killian chimed in, offering a smile himself.

Ruby looked between the two and sighed heavily.

"Okay. I'll go take a nap." Her fingers gave a rough and quick massage to her scalp. It was with one more look up at Liam, and then she stood up.

She looked good. The weeks were falling away quickly, and so were the signs of the pregnancy. Not the signs of being a new mom, which were etched in every part of her. But she looked good.

Liam came around to the front of the couch, meeting Ruby with another quick and firm kiss.

"If you need anything- if Connor needs anything…"

"If there's anything I have the slightest doubt or question to, I will come to you," Liam assured her.

Ruby nodded, a nod that spoke of trust in his words.

"Okay. Okay." There was another sigh that left her lips as she turned to leave in Killian's direction. Or rather baby Connor.

"Do I get a kiss goodnight as well, love?" Killian murmured with a twitch of his lips.

She spared him a roll of her eyes as her hands came to caress at the small hands peeking out from underneath the blanket.

"I came to say bye to my son," she said softly. And there was a bit of softening that happened in her face as she looked at him. Some of the tiredness seemed to wash away.

Was that what it was like to be a parent? To just have one look at the face that you'd had a hand in creating would lead to everything in the world seeming fine again?

Ah! Family!

"Don't hold him the entire time, Killian," Ruby said, looking up at him.

"I promise."

She watched him for just a moment, those tired eyes turning on him. And then she moved closer and placed a kiss on his cheek.

"Goodbye." It was a tired murmur as she slipped away from him.

Killian watched her go until she disappeared out of the room and out of sight, heading for the one place she deserved to be more than anywhere else: her bedroom.

"Am I to be led into believing that parenthood isn't what I've been romanticizing it to be for quite some time now?" he asked ruefully, turning back around to his brother.

Liam smiled. "Of course not." His eyes fell over the bundle in Killian's arms. "It's amazing. Connor's amazing." He moved to stand in front of the couch and fell down onto it. "Look at him."

And Killian did. Yeah, there were bits of Ruby, but he was a Jones. All Jones.

"How can you not think about the future?" Liam asked, sounding in awe. "I have a son. Someone to teach and mold. Someone who will look for me to be the guiding light in his life. That's amazing."

"Aye, that it is," Killian agreed.

It wasn't only about securing future generations of their family line. It was about what Liam had just shared. It was about having someone who looked as one of the most influential people in their lives. It was about being that positive influence and seeing the growth that would come from it over a lifetime.

"One day, brother."

Killian smiled at that, the thought bringing with it other memories.

"Liam?" He found the tone to be solemn, even to himself.

"What is it?"

He looked at him sitting there and tried to decide how he wanted to go forward in the change in topics. His eyes fell back on Connor in his arms. His firstborn nephew. There would be more, he was sure. But Connor would always be first.

The bassinet was on the opposite side of the couch of where Liam sat.

"I'm going to lie him down now."

Liam was quick to stand up, meeting Killian at the bassinet as he walked over.

"Let me do it."

Was there some special way that babies must be laid into their bed? But, as he watched his brother with his son, maybe there was. There was a pride in seeing Liam care for Connor. And there was a pride in seeing his brother be a father.

There hadn't been a great role model in their own father. Not in the least. And yet here he was, being the role model for Connor.

"Look at you."

If there was awe in his voice, then maybe that was what Liam had picked up on. He looked at him, offering a smile.

"I'm proud of you, Liam," Killian told him. There was nothing but sincerity and brotherly love in his words.

"The pride goes both ways," he assured him.

"Yeah, well." Killian took another look into the bassinet, looking down at his nephew.

"Connor has you thinking."

Killian turned his head swiftly around to his brother.

Liam had already been watching him when he turned. An up and down look that was equivalent to a mental checklist.

"You have plenty of time," he told him. "It'll happen. Bachelorhood isn't in the cards forever, Killian, because that isn't what you want."

It might have been a thought that had ran through his mind. It might have crept up because he was seeing the beginnings of a new generation. It might have even been because bachelorhood was already creeping out of the scenario of his life.

"I… did something, Liam." It was slow and with thought. His eyes found his brother's. "So tell me if I'm foolish for it."

For a moment, he just watched him. Maybe anticipating his younger brother's next words. Liam crossed his arms over his chest, giving an encouraging nod.

"What did you do?"

It wasn't as if there had been an automatic negative reaction to that question. But, for whatever reason, Killian felt a nervousness wash over him.

"Does this have something to do with Emma?" The question came with a cock of his head.

"I like Emma." Killian nodded, the admission made easily.

"You've been looking pretty happy lately," Liam said in way of observation.

Killian watched him closely. He hadn't told him about that specific detail that had moved their relationship forward. He hadn't shared about the night that had brought her to his apartment. Or how she had been different than what he'd expected or what his dreams had concluded.

Timidity? Not so much…

"I would equate that to Emma."

Killian didn't mind that Liam's words had taken him away from thinking of the way she had been open to him…

He only smiled at the deduction.

"What did you do?"

His hand came up to stroke his chin. He wasn't nervous about sharing with Liam. The whole point in bringing up the conversation was to get his opinion. But… If anyone knew him, it was Liam. So… his opinion mattered.

"Do you remember Jessica?" Because it was a fair place to begin.

Liam blinked at him, the smile lifting one corner of his mouth.

"One of the others," he said softly. "I didn't know you were still seeing her." His frown was instant, the disappointment evident.

"Well, I'm not." Killian shook his head. "I haven't seen her in a really long time."

"Then?" He left it open.

"She called me," Killian explained.

The smile returned, but with a shake of his head. "And what does that mean, little brother? That you're going to start seeing Jessica again?"

It was his tone. As if it was the last thing he wanted him to do.

Killian took a step closer to Liam, a frown on his own face.

"Emma and I never spoke of being exclusive to one another. But… that's not the point."

"Then what's the point, Killian?" There was doubt in his question. If he had wanted to hide the disappointment from him, it wasn't working.

"The point that I was going to get to was that…" He shook his head again, looking right at Liam. "I told her about Emma. She called me, and I told her that I was seeing someone seriously."

The surprise on Liam's face was subtle. He stood up straighter, his eyes never leaving Killian.

"You just told me that you and Emma never spoke about being exclusive."

"And we haven't," Killian confirmed. "That doesn't change the fact that she was with no one before me, or that I haven't been with anyone else since this thing has started."

"I'm confused," Liam said slowly. "It's that what you wanted me to let you know if it was foolish or not? That you told one of your flings that you were seeing someone seriously?"

He said it as if that wasn't a huge step within either one of them. When Emma hadn't been with anyone in years. When he, himself, had never been concerned with the idea of commitment before.

"No, that's not it," Killian told him.  
"No?"

No, that wasn't it…

"It was after the fact," Killian said slowly, watching his brother. "Jessica was the catalyst is all." He took in a deep breath. He knew that Liam like the idea of Emma because it meant the ideas and dreams he'd had for him coming into fruition. But he knew that he liked the woman as well. There was a reason why they referred to her as the one.

"It was a lot of women," he said in way of defense. "There were a few. I was mainly consistent. But…" He licked at his lips, pausing. "I went through my phone and got rid of everybody else." His eyes slammed on Liam's. "That was dumb, right? Like I said, we haven't talked about anything like that. It's way too soon. Too soon for Emma. The fact that we've come so far is a success unto itself. So I shouldn't have deleted the numbers. And the text messages. The pictures." He smiled at that. "I had a nice collection of beautiful pictures. And… I… got rid of… everything. That was dumb, right?"

Killian only noticed then how much he had said and how quiet Liam had been.

"Why aren't you saying anything?" he asked him warily.

He stayed quiet. But there was something about this type of quiet.

A hand came out to lie on his shoulder, and Liam finally smiled.

"You remember how I told you that I was proud of you, too, Killian?" he asked quietly. There was a twinkle of something in his eye as he watched him.

It made Killian smile.

"Of course I remember."

"Well, this is one of those things that make me really proud of you."

"That makes you proud?" He felt a bit dubious in Liam's response. He hadn't known what the response was going to be, but proud hadn't crossed his mind. "I was thinking that by doing it on impulse like that, that eventually I'd regret it."

"Why? Why would you regret it?" Liam shook his head. "It's different with Emma." He'd said it so matter-of-factly that there seemed to be no room for doubt in his mind.

And it was different with Emma.

"What? Do you think that will change? Was it a conscious thought to not call any of the others during your quest to get Emma to open up to you? Or did you realize that your focus had been solely her after the fact?"

It had been after the fact. He'd wanted no one but Emma since she'd opened that door and let him in.

"I don't think that it'll change. She's…"

Explaining Emma. How did he do that?

"She's everything that I thought I wanted for my future, and everything that I didn't think I'd have."

It was a confession not only to Liam, but to himself as well. Emma had become…

"Then you have your answer: you did the right thing." He shook his head. "I had my doubts about you, little brother."

Liam's words surprised him, pulling him once again from budding thoughts of her. A frown laced his face.

"You had doubts? About me?"

"And now…" He smiled. "Now I don't."

Liam didn't elaborate. But Killian didn't need him to. He understood. He understood that Liam had wants and expectations for him. Even ones that Killian hadn't put much effort into living out himself.

"Well that's good to know," he muttered quietly.

"Saying it feels even better. So… a bit of advice to you, Killian? Hm?" His eyebrows went up, he tone a bit stern.

"Advice from my brother?" Killian shrugged lightly, already curious about what was about to fall from his mouth. "I'm always up for it."

"Whatever you do," he said gravely. And then, "Don't blow it."

Sound advice, he thought with a smile.

"I'm going to try my best to follow through with that advice," he assured him. "Thanks."

****

**Friday 10:11p.m.**

****

****

_What are you doing?_

__

__

_**Cleaning up the kitchen before I go to bed.** _

_****_

_****_

_Where's Henry? Asleep already?_

__

__

_**Yeah, Henry's asleep.** _

_****_

_****_

_It looks like I'll be right after him._

__

__

_I have an early Saturday morning meeting followed by an interview that I have to prepare myself._

__

__

_**Busy Saturday. Which I can understand. I'll be spending a couple of hours at the store myself.** _

_****_

_****_

_Damn! Do you see how professions our trying to keep us apart? I think we need to show them that it's not that easy._

__

__

_**Lol How do we do that?** _

_****_

_****_

_Simple. Although I would MUCH rather have the opportunity of snuggling up together for a few hours, what I'm going to do is come give you a kiss goodnight._

__

__

_**Oh, yeah? OK. Come show them then.** _

_****_

_****_

_I'm on my way, love._

__

__

Staring at their past conversation on the phone, it brought a smile to Killian's face. Sometimes it could be easy to question if he was in this thing alone. She had lowered some major walls in order to get to where they were now at.

Sometimes it was easy to see that she was in it just as much as he was, no matter what it had taken to get there.

It wasn't supposed to be this way. She wasn't supposed to be the one to get into his heart like no one had ever done before. But the truth was the truth. And…

Killian pulled the apartment door open, being greeting by the opposite door being already ajar.

He wouldn't have wanted it any other way.


	14. Chapter 13

"Emma?"

Emma looked up from the mannequin before her to take note of Belle. It had been her tone of voice that had her curious. A questioning tone that had read confusion.

"Yeah?"

And her steps were slow, and a look of doubt crossed her face.

"Someone's here to see you?" It was a question, not a statement. Belle shook her head, this time smiling at the prospect. "There's a man, downstairs, who is here to see you. A quite handsome man," she added with a wistful sigh, "who is waiting for you downstairs."

It was quite the awkward response from Belle. One that only confused Emma all the more.

"Is he a representative for one of the designers?" she asked with a frown. Her eyes caught sight of the wall clock. "Because it's lunch time. I didn't know about someone coming here today around this time."

"Well, he isn't here from any of the designers," Belle assured her. "It seems to be more of a personal call."

It was as if she had a secret. A secret that she desperately wanted Emma to know. Or, at least, play in the game by doing some guessing.

"Belle?" Emma shook her head, drawing a blank on what the game was supposed to be.

She sighed again, her eyes dancing mischievously.

"He said his name is Killian," Belle said in a sing-song voice.

Emma felt the immediate stutter of her heart at Belle's mentioning of his name. Two worlds colliding unexpectantly, trying to rock her foundation.

"He said that, no, he doesn't have an appointment with you, but you probably wouldn't mind."

Emma felt the blush warming her neck and her cheeks. It was an effect that was impossible to get around.

"Killian's here?"

****

She didn't expect him. She hadn't seen it coming. But, if she let herself think about it, really think about it, then she would have realized that this was so Killian Jones. And she had never experienced anything like Killian Jones before.

His back was to her, and Emma had the chance to just watch him. She was able to see the ease in which he stood, as if he belonged there in her world. She saw the way the paper bag hung absently from his hand, swinging lightly in front of him. His head was down, glancing at his foot the entire time.

It was Killian. And he had come to see her.

Emma held her hands together, lightly twisting her fingers together. He was a shock. A surprise. And one that she didn't quite know how to handle. Not when he did things like this.

There were people around. Staff working all around them. Some knew her. Some knew of her solitude. So maybe the shock went beyond her.

Emma scanned the room as far as she could see, taking note of her usual surroundings, which now included an unusual aspect to it. And it nearly took her breath away.

A second. She just took a second. To look at him. To eternalize the man who was in front of her…

"Killian?"

He was quick to turn, his smile sudden and bright.

"Hello, Emma." His eyes traveled down to the bag in his hand as he raised it. "It's about time for your lunch break, yes?" He looked at her again. "I thought that I would come down and enjoy it with you." His smile grew, his eyes twinkling. "Grilled cheese and onion rings, love?"

Maybe a second wasn't long enough. Because he had surprised her beyond belief.

Her eyes darted across his face. A face that was easy and… a lot more. Her first thought was to question it. To question him. But…

Emma took in a deep breath.

"That sounds… absolutely amazing."

****

"Ah! A snapshot of the day in the life of Ms. Emma Swan."

Leaning away from his chair, Killian glanced around the large dressing room. His eyes seemed to catch on different elements of what her job consisted of: two mannequins, front and center; boxes and boxes of accessories set in the corners; shelves of books and materials lining the walls.

"This isn't all of it," Emma said with a smile. She looked around the room herself.

It wasn't exactly policy, bringing someone into the work area. Henry had made plenty of trips with her, but that was different. Having him there… having him be a part of that snapshot… There were things that she just couldn't wrap her mind around.

It would only be for a few minutes. She could get away for lunch for only a half hour. Half of that had already gone. It had been spent sitting hip to hip in the foldout chairs that she'd pulled shyly from the back room. The half-empty containers of food sat before them, mostly forgotten because… it was hard to concentrate.

"This is basically where we put together the concepts," she told him. "Part think tank, part storage area."

"Oh, I can definitely see that," Killian murmured. His eyes fell back on her. "This is where that artistic flare has a way of popping up." He offered her a small smile. "You're going to have to give me a grand tour of the behind the scene action that goes along here sometime."

It was something about the way that he looked at her. It did something to her thoughts and to her heart and to her desires. It had a way of putting a smile on her face, as she continued to watch him.

Conflicting feelings. Conflicting thoughts. Because she was still Emma Swan. And sometimes the realization and meaning of that made things difficult… Yet… looking at him, seeing him beside her, how could she deny…

It was something about his attention to detail. It might have been… once? Maybe twice? She had mentioned the tiny diner that was a good fifteen minutes out of her way from work back to home no more than that. That's when she would have also mentioned that they had the best grilled cheese sandwiches and thick-cut onion rings that she sometimes craved.

So… here he was. Randomly. Looking at her. Being sweet to her. Being everything that... he shouldn't be. Not to her.

Because their conversation had been easy. Just like always. This was the first time he had ever been to her job. But it wasn't awkward, except for the stray feeling of shyness. It was as normal and as fitting as any of their dates had been. It was as normal as if departing from work each morning, separately, and then coming together midday was something that actually fit. It was as if in-between work kisses were where they were at in this relationship. And it was as if he was as positive about those ideas as he expected her to be.

Emma blinked her eyes at him, realizing just how long she must have been watching him. And she couldn't help herself from asking the question that consumed her mind.

"What are you thinking, Emma?"

Killian had asked his question before she had the chance to ask hers. It seemed fitting, with him doing his own watching. Hm… Did he think he knew her like… an open book? Because he had a way of picking up things about her at the most random of times. Or maybe not so random. It was always when she was on the edge or even slightly over it.

"What…" Emma heard her own sigh. She felt the way just the corners of her mouth lifted in a smile. "What are you doing here, Killian?"

There was something about that mere question that saddened her instantly. Of course it would sadden her… Of course she would dismiss the thoughts of the way he had taken her hand in his as he let her lead him to her work area. Of course she would dismiss the way he smiled happily as she introduced him to Belle in way of passing. Of course the happiness in herself was dulled by her question.

She watched as his eyebrows pulled together and the way he leaned slowly back into his seat.

"I'm… here to have… an impromptu lunch date with you," he answered softly. "You see…" His hands came around to sweep hers up with his own. "I was at work and I began thinking about you like crazy. And then I noticed that lunch time approaching fast. At the same time I was still thinking about you." He gave a small shrug. "Putting two and two together seemed like the most obvious decision."

He was cute. Sweet. Unreal. Sometimes too much. Too much to trust, at least. And yet she did. For a very long time… she had be trustful of him. That's when the tug began to grow… She trusted him, but what part of herself was she supposed to trust in?

"You're here because… you missed me?" she asked in another whisper.

Killian sat there and continued to watch her. The expression on his face was curious, but one of understanding.

What in the hell was happening between them? Too much?

Because the weeks were flying by. The ease of this thing was far too great. He'd confessed, albeit humorously, that she'd been on his mind. That he'd been thinking of her. It was a confession that she could have made about herself. Because she thought of him, too.

It hadn't been without caution that she had moved on in stages and phases with him. She hadn't taken those acts lightly…

Promise me that you'll remember this.

He'd said it that night because he knew her. He knew how easy it would have been for her to simply fall back into some abyss. To act as if their first time together had been some figment of his imagination and not true.

But she hadn't wanted that. Not then. Not ever. Because taking a lover after three years- after all those years of closing in on herself in that time- had been a conscious thought that had come with growing feelings. Feelings of…

Emma hadn't wanted to forget that night. And she never did. They had made it to a new level. With no turning back.

Except…

"I missed you a lot," Killian assured her firmly. Firmly. And without a modicum of doubt.

How did he do it? How did he look at her and see things within her that no one had seen before? How did he make her feel things that she'd believed were not so much beyond her, but were just impossibilities for her?

Emma blinked her eyes at him, shaking her head.

"I'm not used to this." The murmur came on the heels of the quickening of her heart. "I'm not used to someone showing this type of care for me. It's…"

"It's lunch and an admission of needing to see you," Killian commented.

Emma's eyes grew as she looked at him. If it seemed that simple to him, then which one of them had the most to learn? Was it her, who had thought she'd known love when it never reached the simplistic notes of care from one person to the other, like this? Or was it him, who seemed to not realize that simple acts of care, behind real feelings, could be an overwhelming show of truth?

"Emma?" Killian's hand slipped from hers as he turned to fully face her.

Was he worried? That she was going to turn tail and run? Had he picked up on her apprehension that had been swift and sudden?

"What's wrong?" Both hands gripped at her thighs, smoothing over the tops and then over to the sides.

What was wrong? A list of pros and cons could easily be made….

"This is too much." It was the first thing to fly out of her mouth. It was the first thought that came to her. Not because she had wanted it to, but because feelings had a way of conflicting.

"This is too much?" Killian asked softly, watching her intently.

Emma felt her eyes widen.

"Yes, this. It's too much." And then… a frown. Indecision. "Don't you think so?"

And she saw the softening of his own eyes.

"No. I don't." Killian's hands smoothed over her hips slowly. "Why do you think so?"

It was caring. It was a caress that meant something.

"Because this doesn't happen to me." It was a whispered admission that she didn't know if he understood. "Good things don't fall in my lap and just stay, Killian." Her hands fell over his, pausing the caress, and her eyes searched his. "When is the other shoe going to fall?"

She'd asked because… she wanted to know. Indecision wasn't a fun thing to deal with. Not when she had a man like him sitting in front of her.

Killian was slow to shake his head.

"It doesn't," he whispered, sounding confident in his answer. "This is real, Emma. Don't you see that? Can't you see that?"

It was scary to think about. Her feelings were growing too much. And that was just the precursor to bad things happening.

"This isn't me." Emma said it again, looking into his eyes intently. "I don't get good things."

"I think… that was another compliment," Killian said with a squint of his eye. He shook his head. "There is no other shoe, Emma. You know me. I know you. This is the real thing. Right?"

There was an intensity radiating from him that rivaled her own. Emma was sure that his didn't come from indecision and indetermination. At least not for the same indecision and indetermination that she had.

Did he want her to admit it? Did he need her to admit it?

There was a part of her that thought that maybe he did. That maybe he was asking for more than just the fact that there was a mutual like for one another.

"That scares me," Emma confessed softly, her eyebrows drawing together in a worried frown.

What response did she expect from that? She didn't know. Not the one he gave. But maybe she should have. Because it was… so Killian.

He slowly turn his hands over into hers, gripping their fingers together and holding firm. His eyes stayed on her, trying to convey something that was probably close to truth and honesty and understanding.

"Which part of it scares you, Emma?" he asked, taking every part of her in and accounted for.

Honesty…

"Sometimes… all of it."

And his hands were on the move again. Quietly, they came to lightly cup her cheeks, his thumbs down either side.

It was a soothing feeling. A feeling that was able to ease some of the tension that had quietly built up inside her. It was a soothing feeling that only grew when his forehead lightly bumped against hers.

"Killian." It was another sigh as she closed her eyes and gripped at his arms.

"Emma…"

Sometimes all of it…

Sometimes none of it…

Because sometimes it felt only like this. And sometimes it felt very much like…

"Emma, I…"

I love him…

The realization didn't make her want to run. At least not run away. It made her want to stay. It made her want every single doubt and fear leave her be. Just so that she could have this feeling right here.

Love was a difficult thing in her life, but she could acknowledge it within herself. She was never one to force the feeling. The realization always hit her out of nowhere. It was always a moment in time that she'd experience the fact. And Emma liked it that way. She liked that it was an organic thing that speared through every part of her. But..,

She hadn't had this realization in four years. And that made it scary again. God! What now? She loved him.

"Sometimes none of it," Emma finally said.

"Like now?" Killian inhaled a deep breath, his fingers still stroking.

"Like now," she conceded.

"I think…"

Emma opened her eyes. She saw that even though his were still closed, there was a tranquility about every facet of his that she could see.

Scarier still. Maybe she did want to run…

"I trust you. I can trust you. I can trust you?" It was a gambit of emotions she was going through. Too many thoughts. Too much information to take in.

"You can trust me," Killian told her. "You already do trust me."

And she did.

And once again, the feelings of worry began to seep away.

Trust…

It had allowed for her to feel other things. Like the fact that she loved this man. It had happened again.

"The real thing?" she asked softly.

This time, Killian opened his eyes and met hers.

"The real thing, love," he promised.

His eyes closed again, and his lips moved to seek out hers. A soft kiss that… spoke of all those feelings.

The real thing…

She returned his kiss.

Past hurt didn't matter….

Soft and sweet and full.

Not this time….

A kiss that sent a shiver throughout her entire body.

Not when she loved him…

"All better now?" Killian's murmur was thick against her lips.

It shouldn't have been that easy. But, in fact, it hadn't been easy. It had involved a thought process that had made her question every second of it. And yet, in the end, there was only one answer to his question.

"All better now."

Killian slid slowly away from her then, his eyes falling over every part of her.

"Good," he murmured, nodding his head. "That's good."

She had expected this. She hadn't expected her work day to include this impromptu visit. She didn't know that it was going to lead down a path of feelings that she hadn't known if she was ready for. But it had all happened.

"What are you thinking?" she asked him. Because if she knew what he was thinking, then maybe it would take her mind off of her own thoughts.

Killian shook his head. "Lots of things, Emma." He took in another deep breath and exhaled. "All things that have to do with you." He shook his head for a second time. "And how lucky I am to have you in my life."

It was things like that that kept those walls down.

"Do you have pressing plans after your work day is over?" he asked her.

"Henry," Emma told him. "We have some things to do with a school project that he has coming up."

"Okay." This time he nodded. "Then tonight? Come fall asleep in my arms and in my bed tonight. I don't have enough nights of me holding you in my arms at night."

It was a balancing act, of course. And she'd never been held in his arms at night in his bed with the knowledge that she loved him.

"Tonight," Emma agreed.

It only made her remember where they were: among mannequins, boxes of accessories, shelves of fabrics. They were among her job.

"I'm going to have to get back to work soon, Killian," she reminded him softly.

"The knowledge of that saddens me all the more because so do I," he told her with a smile. He closed his hand around hers again. "Thank you not only not pretending that you didn't know me, but for also letting me spend all this time with you."

It made her smile. He made her smile. He made her happy. The man that she loved.

"Thank you for surprising me with a delicious lunch," she told him. "It was… great."

"Doubts and fears notwithstanding?" he asked lightly.

"Even those," she said softly.

They were both quiet for a long moment, watching one another in silent thought. She didn't know what he was thinking, but she couldn't stop the thoughts of her revelations from consuming her.

"I should get going then," Killian said, making the move to do that slowly. "I'll see you tonight."

"I'll see you tonight."

He stood up first, followed right behind her.

"Emma." He was so quick to turn back to her, his arms wrapping around her back and hugging her close to him.

The feel of him holding her filled her with such a sudden warmth that nearly flooded her.

Love.

She loved him.

Admitting it to herself was huge. And maybe one day she would admit it to him. Maybe. One day.

"I have to get you out of here," she told him quietly. "Come on. I'll walk you back out to the front of the store."

A kiss was placed on her forehead before Killian pulled away from her.

"And here I thought I wasn't embarrassing in the least," he said mockingly.

Emma's hidden smile was small as she grabbed his hand just as before.

"Far from embarrassing." She threw a look at him from over her shoulder. "Or maybe not."

"Ha ha." But he had a smile on his face.

If it could be like this always. If she could trust in this feeling to be constant, then maybe…

Her heart was full. Full of hope and wishes for not only herself, but for them.

How in the hell had it happened? Emma threw another look back at the grinning face.

Hell if she knew!

But it had happened. And she wanted it to stay.

****

"Emma?"

She heard the tapping of Belle's heels from behind her. Her voice was getting closer, and so were those heels.

"Emma?" She heard Belle's quick laugh, sounding delightfully airy. "You can't… You can't have a man come bring you lunch and share it with you, and then not say anything about it."

Killian hadn't been out of her sight for all of three minutes. Emma was sure he hadn't even made it outside as of yet. And still, she was being quickly cornered by her coworker.

The heels got quicker. Louder.

Emma sighed and finally stopped in her tracks. Turning around slowly, she found Belle only feet away from her.

Belle had a smile on her face. It was encouraging and curious. A smile that read happiness and excitement.

"So?" Her shoulders lifted in a fit of excitement. "You have to share with me, Emma. Who was the guy who came to see you?"

Emma could only stare at her. How was she supposed to answer that?

"Killian is… my… neighbor," she finally got out. And it felt wrong. It felt like a lie of omission.

"Oh." Belle had said it slowly, drawing out the one-syllable word. "Oh."

It made Emma roll her eyes, still feeling at ease. She was quick to turn back around, taking off again in the direction of the storage room.

"Is that all?" She was right behind her, but quickly took her place beside Emma.

"Is that all?"

Shoulder to shoulder, they walked together.

"I only ask because… Well, no," Belle corrected herself. "There are many reasons why I ask. He looked quite smitten with you. Not like just a neighbor. He looked more than smitten, really. He looked like he was familiar with you. But that doesn't make sense, because you don't date. You haven't in so long. So…" She looked back at Emma, the curiosity only growing.

Belle was right. Everything that she had said had been right. What she'd said about her had been true. That was… up until Killian Jones.

Whom her heart felt so akin to. The man who had opened her up and who had opened up to her. The man who she had developed feelings for so strongly that even she could categorize it as love.

She loved him. God help her. She loved him.

He had also left her in the predicament of being able to share personal things about herself with her coworker.

Emma shook her head. "I'm… He's…" She shook her head again. "We've been… seeing each other." She finished it quietly, her eyes shooting over to Belle.

Belle's own eyes had went wide with surprise.

"You're dating?" The shock couldn't have been any greater. "Emma!"

"It's not a big deal."

The lie shot out of her. The lie. "Because the admission of dating anyone was one of the most significant things in her life…

"It's a huge deal!" Belle countered. Her hand reached out for her, putting a stop to both of their steps. "Emma?"

"What?" The question came out in a rush of air, the nervousness building up in her.

"Emma, you're dating!" The exclamation was in awe. "Congratulations."

Were congratulations in order? She didn't know. What she did know what that the acknowledgment was effecting her greatly.

"My lunch hour ran over just a bit," Emma said with a huff. "Was there anything that I missed? Anything that we're behind on?"

"Oh."

Another telling oh, hmm…

"No," Belle assured her. "There's nothing pressing."

Emma was slow to nod her head. "Fine. But I left the mannequin for tomorrow's display only half dressed. Are you ready to get under way with that? Because I am."

Her steps picked up, and Belle's to match.

"That's fine." It was in her singsong voice. "We can continue this later."

The smirk Emma found on Belle's face convinced her that she'd spoken no truer words.


	15. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes... I write angst...

It may not have been the purpose of him holding the phone out in front of her- in fact, she knew it was because he didn't want to let her go in that moment- but the text conversation was right in her face. And it was on more than one occasion that he'd mentioned that she was nosy...

She really admired the friendship that he had had with his brother. It had always come through so easily. There was never a moment that the love they shared for each other wasn't genuine. And it was in the way he spoke to him. It was in the way he spoke of him. And it was in the way they communicated with one another.

Emma closed her eyes as she settled into Killian all the more. Her head laid comfortably enough on his arm, knowing that it must have made it more difficult for his to complete the task of texting Liam. Not that he seemed to mind.

Emma could feel the way the arm that fell over her waist, as his hand shared in the duty of carrying out the texting with his other hand, stretched out even farther. It also had the added bonus of bringing her back all the closer to his hairy chest. And that was… an unbelievably nice feeling. Odd even, because she had never been one who cared for a hairy chest. But… she wiggled again against him… she liked his. A lot.

She heard his playful growl at the same time she felt his ankle slipping over hers, locking their bare feet together. Just another intimate gesture that set her heart racing…

Emma opened her eyes to find his finger running across the keyboard of the phone, replying to another text from Liam. She scanned what she had missed, which was more of Liam's thoughts on parenthood.

It made Emma smile, which was so unlike her as well. Happy couples? Married happy couples? Married happy couples with babies? Those ideas had always had a way of leaving her feeling empty inside. It had always been hard to see, or even hear about, the perfect perfection of people who were so unlike herself. People who had love in their lives, and who didn't know what it was like to fight a depression that could be all-encompassing. So the fact that she had smiled…

Liam and Ruby were that cute couple with new baby on board. New parents who hadn't been previously introduced to the joys and hardships of what everyday life was as a parent. But they were learning. The past… seven weeks had been a learning experience. A learning experience that had involved, for the most part, only them. So Liam's proposition was a little surprising to see.

_I'm thinking that an hour would do her good. If I can get her out of the house for just an hour, she would feel free during at least that time._

__

__

It conjured up memories of Henry at that age. Her mother had helped. She had been there to show her bits and pieces. And it had been unbelievably helpful. But Emma could never deny how… stressful motherhood could be at that stage of the game. Babies. Mommy. Daddy.

She held the sigh in as she watched Killian type in his response to that.

_**I think that the amount of faith that you put in to me is quite remarkable.** _

_****_

_****_

_It'll be during his routine nap hours. There's a lot of that going around._

__

__

_**For an hour?** _

_****_

_****_

_Two at the most. You know Ruby._

__

__

_**When?** _

_****_

_****_

_Saturday afternoon. Probably around noon or 1pm._

__

__

Was he serious?

"Are you going to babysit Connor?" Emma asked as she immediately turned around in his arms.

Killian's arm fell away to slip between the two of them. He let the phone fall to the bed right there before claiming her waist as his again. There was a smile on his face, but there was something about his eyes and the way he looked at her.

"I'm going to babysit Connor," he told her, the smile only growing.

He was adorable. An adorable man who made her heart skip beats at just the way he looked at her. An adorable man that she had found herself admitting to loving.

I love you.

It was so easy to admit it to herself…

"What… do you know about babies?" she asked him with a curious eye on him. "Because, as far as I know, your experience with babies extends to the times you have spent with this one seven-week-old baby while in the care of his parents."

Killian's mouth opened slightly, but only to turn into another smile.

"That… about does it," he agreed with her, nodding his head. His chin lifted just slightly as his hand ran down the length of her hip. "Just as well as my brother. And Ruby, for that matter."

"One difference," Emma pointed out, relenting to keep her tone level as she tried very hard to not give in to the feeling of his hand now roaming over her back and even lower. "Theirs is a twenty-four hour learning job. Unlike you, who is in and out at any given time. It's not the same."

Killian's eyes cut on hers. "Are you saying that I shouldn't do it then?" And maybe that surprised him a bit.

Emma heard the buzz on the phone going off from between them. It would have been Liam, waiting on the answer from his brother.

"Saturday, right?" Emma asked in a whisper, looking him over.

He hadn't yet moved to pick up the phone. His hand was still doing the same roaming of a man who had privilege to touch and feel whatever he wanted to when it came to her. (That hadn't taken long.)

"He wants to do it Saturday," Killian said.

"Then…" Her search of everything that was Killian Jones continued, watching him closely. "I'll come with you. I'll help you babysit your nephew."

There was an instant softening in his face. There was a thought that was processing, she could see it.

"I think that… Ruby would feel secure with that plan," he murmured quietly. "Emma?" It wasn't quite a frown. Maybe it was a dawning of realization that came with whatever his thought process had been.

"What?" It came out as a sigh.

"Come here."

As if they weren't close enough. But his hand pressed on her waist, helping to inch her all the closer.

His lips were warm and firm. His kiss was soft and hot. And…

It was still something to get used to. It was still something to try to realize as fact and not just some cosmic dream. And, as she kissed him back, as her hands wrapped around his back, she felt happy that this was reality.

Her reality. Her life.

It was the buzz of the phone again that finally separated them. The notification of a missed text message.

"I'll let Liam know." It was thick. Too thick for it to not bring with it thoughts of good night. Or at a few hours at least.

"Yeah," Emma sad with a nod of her own. "Make sure that it's okay with him first."

"Yes, right." He said it with a huff, already typing out the message. "I'm sure that would be something he'd have to think on before committing to."

She caught herself watching him. She caught herself feeling. They weren't brand-new, her feelings for him. She'd been experiencing them for weeks now. But they were still able to catch her off her guard.

Love was… a prospect that she still worried her. How could it not, when her past was filled with everything going so wrong?

Emma's hand came up to brush up against the hair-roughened cheek. She ignored the way his eyes fell on her and his sudden smile. She found herself, instead, concentrating on that cheek.

His beard was usually kept trim, but a few days' worth of missed shaves had left him a bit unkempt. And she liked it. She liked the thickness and the feel of it under her fingers. She liked that it had hints of a reddish hue to it, hinting to some Irish roots somewhere down the line. She liked his beard.

There was a tingle of something that ran through her entire body. All at the thought of Killian Jones.

His smile was back, she noticed.

"Ah, yes." A lift of an eyebrow accompanied his attention being turned back on her. "He doesn't seem to have an issue with the plan."

"Surprise, surprise." Emma smiled back at him, moving her hand down along the length of his neck, down his shoulder, and over his arm.

"Thank you, Emma." Killian cocked his head to the side as his eyes covered different parts of her.

"It'll be fun," she assured him with a sigh. "I haven't seen Connor in person very much. And it'll be interesting to see just how you are with him all on your own." It was the poke of his bottom lip and the way his eyebrows dragged together that challenged that statement. "Or… for the most part on your own."

That bottom lip became consumed and hidden as he bit down on it. For a moment, he was quiet. Just watching her.

What was he thinking? Emma didn't know. She was curious, but… she didn't know.

Although it made her wish…

"What time is it?" she asked instead.

His phone was still between them, and she glanced down at it.

Killian turned it over and showed her the time.

"You're thinking about leaving already," he murmured.

It was barely ten after midnight. She hadn't been in his apartment that long. And, in fact, she was dreading the idea of having to leave. But, eventually, she would.

They'd had a system now. One that was borne out of necessity. Borne from a need to have all the late-night time that they could. It was only well after Henry had fallen asleep. It was after her nightly shower and a quick text. When he had given her the key to his apartment, she had been less than receptive to the idea. But it was a convenience thing, he had assured her. This way, she could let herself in whenever the need had come up. No worries, love. I'll always be ready for you.

So she'd taken the key. Had taken advantage of slipping into his bed beside him on occasion. Had loved the feel of his arms sliding around her and hugging her tight. Had grown to absolutely need the feel of his lips against her skin. And had unabashedly sighed in approval at every touch and every word that had been for no one but her.

But there had been time constraints. Emma had to make sure that she wasn't there a full night. Half the night would have to suffice. Never past three in the morning. She had to be home, no matter if home was just across the hall, way before Henry found himself awake. She didn't think that he knew about her late nights. At least she liked to think of them as being a pleasant secret. It was one thing for her son to realize that their relationship was beyond that of just friendship. It was something else entirely to have him know other details about them.

"No." Emma shook her head. "I'm not ready to go."

Killian's gaze had fallen away from her face and just off to the side. Maybe it was the way her hair had slipped from off her shoulder and down her chest that had done it. Maybe.

"What were you thinking about then?" he asked her softly.

How was she supposed to answer that?

"I was wondering… what you were thinking," she told him with a shrug of her shoulder. "What are you thinking about, Killian?"

His hand moved then, coming up to slip through the hair that had fell in front of her and smoothing it back over her shoulder. The caress was soft. Sweet. And it sent shivers through all of her.

"I was… thinking… about… family actually." Killian's smile was sudden and accompanied by a huff. "I really appreciate the fact that you'd give up a couple hours of your day off to come with me so that we could watch my newborn nephew, Emma." His hand stilled on her shoulder as his eyes met hers. "Family? You know. It means… a lot. So…" He smiled again. "Yeah."

A flustered Killian Jones? Cute. But why?

Family….

Family!

It meant more than just "a lot" to him. Family was everything. And maybe he equated her spending time with him and his family as…

Damn! How were those feelings growing so fast? And yet she still hadn't professed her newfound realization with him. The words that were on the tip of her tongue sometimes. Then, again, sometimes they were under lock and key.

No. No… Not just yet.

But it didn't change the fact…

Emma's eyes darted across his face, reading, but not mistakenly missing cues that she didn't think she was ready for.

I love you.

Her smile was small, and the one he returned was just as sweet.

I'm falling in love with you! Stop me from falling head over heels in love with you!

But he didn't. Not then. Not when he leaned into her, his lips seeking and finding hers. Not when his kiss was still so soft and so sweet.

"I've always heard that babies and young children had a way of getting right to a woman's heart," Killian murmured against my mouth. "I'm glad it extends to uncles with their young nephews as well, hm."

Emma couldn't contain the smile that formed against his mouth. Ah, well, that didn't help much either…

****

She woke up to his arms around wrapped around her middle and his bearded cheek pressed into her shoulder blade.

It didn't surprise her, but the amount of emotion did catch her off her guard. There was something about the way he held her protectively in his arms that made the emotions grown tenfold. Maybe it was the possessiveness of the act that made her feel that way. And she liked it. She liked that, even in his sleep, she was important enough to him to keep as close as possible.

What time was it? That was the real question. Because she didn't know how long she had been asleep. Hopefully it wasn't that long. Because it had to have been pretty late when she had finally drifted off.

Emma's arm tightened around his before she gripped at it and pushed it away from her. It was slow and with care that she slipped out of his arms. And he hadn't moved. He was as silent and quiet as ever as she slipped from the bed.

The bare floor was cold under her feet. Or maybe she was only feeling the loss of being wrapped up in him. Either way…

She moved quickly to the other side of the bed. She hadn't brought her phone with her. And Killian didn't have a clock in the bedroom. But his phone was usually left on the floor of his side of the bed.

It couldn't have been three o'clock just yet. And if it wasn't three o'clock, it would have meant that she wouldn't have to leave. It would mean that she could wake him up with more than just a quick goodbye kiss. It would mean that she could do a lot more than give him a kiss.

What had he done to her? He had made her body betray her. At first. And then every other part of her had followed her body's lead. A betrayer of solitude to instead become this woman who was needy and appreciative and more than willing to give just as much as she was given.

Emma found the phone that was partially hidden under the bed by the notification light blinking at her. She bent down quickly and picked it up in her hand.

2:28

She had known it couldn't have been three just quite yet.

Seeing the missed message notification on the screen brought up memories of their past conversation. Liam had been receptive to the idea of her coming over and sitting with Killian for Connor. Just another instance of the seamlessness that seemed to come with being a part of them. And that was… well, sometimes it was best not to think about it.

Emma's eyes slid over to Killian, who still hadn't moved since she had slipped away from him. He had made the point that she was nosy on more than one occasion. Had it been Liam who had texted in the late-night hours while enjoying one pf Connor's two in the morning feedings? Maybe a note from Ruby, who he would have gotten around to mentioning the tag-team babysitting duo to?

It was with a poke of her tongue that she pulled down the notification bar, opening up the list of messages. And…

There was a message from Liam. But it wasn't the newest message. The other ones were from an unsaved number. An unsaved number. And one of those three messages hadn't been a text, but read no subject instead. A pic? And…

It was just as easy to open that page of messages as it would be to open Liam's. And sometimes curiosity won out.

Like this time…

Text. Pic. Text.

Emma's eyes darted across the picture of the barely clothed woman on Killian's phone. The selfie was more that suggestive of the girl. Yes, she thought with a smile that was the farthest thing from joyful, she could say girl. A girl who couldn't be anywhere near her thirty-three years.

It was more than just a sobering feeling. It was more than just a confused hurt that overtook her body. More than a question of why or how for him and for herself.

The other shoe…

The picture was sandwiched between the two texts…

_Hello, sweetness! Miss me much?_

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_Can you tell how much I miss you?_

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What was this feeling? A dullness was settling in her heart. Not quite an ache. Not yet. Whatever it was, it was spreading.

There wasn't a history of texting beyond the late night trio. But there was a history between them, of course.

Emma's eyes scanned the picture once more, her gaze catching on the perkiness and receptiveness of a girl looking to entice a man.

And then her eyes slid back over to the man himself. Who was still fast asleep. Unaware. Unaware of the every one of the emotions and feelings coursing through her head and her body.

They'd never said that… He never asked her to… But the things he had said. She had assumed that…

He was a liar. As simple as that.

And there goes the other shoe…

Henry. Dates. Texts. Late night phone calls. Sharing. Sharing herself. Giving herself. Three years.

For a second, just a second, it had been so… expected that this was how her life would turn out that she actually smiled briefly. Briefly. Because the feeling of her heart beginning to break a bit took precedence over any other feeling. Including vindication of knowing what was always intended for her. But then…

It was everything. Everyone. Every single hurt in her life. A hurt that began with Neal. Because he was supposed to had been the one. He had been the one. The one she had made vows to. Vows that were supposed to link them together in life forever. But it hadn't been forever. It had been six years. And that was it. Because things had changed and they had grown apart.

And then it had been Jefferson. Jefferson. Who had seemed promising. But in reality, in reality, it hadn't been about his feelings for her. Because she was never first. She was never second. Where had she fallen in line of importance in his life? It was never a competition between his job and her. Work was the clear winner. She had become some piece of fluff that could be taken or left…

But Graham! It was different with Graham. With Graham, she saw… She began to pick up on the fact that it wasn't about them. Emma played a valuable part in her misery. Because he had tried. He had tried to get her to open up and not be that standoffish person. It just happened too late. It happened when she had sufficiently pushed him away.

And Walsh? Well, how much more proof did she need when she had, finally, sufficiently given parts of herself, and in return he thought cheating on her sounded about right? Not much more proof at all, to be honest.

They had all written on her slate. They had all contributed to Emma's realization that her life wasn't worth forming bonds and expecting happy endings. It just didn't work like that. Not in her life. So this?

Killian?

He turned out to be the liar that fate said he had to be.

Shut down. Walls up.

It made sense to her to shut off her feelings right then and there. This was why she didn't open up. It was over. He'd proven to be like the rest. In his own way, he had proven that a man was just a man. And he had done it under a guise that had left her essentially clueless. She shouldn't have been so clueless.

Emma's eyes fell back on the messages that were in her hands.

_Hello, sweetness! Miss me much?_

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Black bra and matching black panties fit perfectly over the young and firm body. A hand slipping into the long dark hair as she pouted her pretty and full lips at the camera for him.

_Can you tell how much I miss you?_

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Emma felt her eyes flutter close. The hurt, it was definitely hurt, was creeping its way through those walls and entering her body. That wasn't good. Emma Swan didn't do pain. Emma Swan concealed.

She was slow at placing the phone down on the nightstand beside the bed. But as soon as she did, some of that pain went away. Or, at least, it got catalogued to someplace that it needed to be.

Her steps were slow as she went around to the other side of the bed. Her pajama bottoms were on the floor on that side.

Auto-pilot. That was familiar. Her eyes had a tendency to close longer than a blink as she slipped into her pants. She had come over with nothing. She was leaving with even less.

Emma finally glance across the bed. She looked at him. Still sleeping. Still unknowing of her finding out the truth.

She hadn't asked for things from him. She hadn't asked for him to be a certain way with her or for her. But he had chosen to lie anyway.

The hurt was cutting. Three years. She'd waited three years. Was that why second-nature was enacting itself soon enough? The hurt needed to subside. And the truth of her reality was what needed to take over.

Auto-pilot. Emma padded out of the bedroom. Her steps took her down the hallway and into the living room. The perfect living room that had surprised her and had mesmerized her. She walked to the door and opened it just enough to slip out. And the hallway was silent as she crossed over to her own door. It wasn't locked. She could just walk in.

Not yet three in the morning… And, yet, it was time to start putting her life back in the order that she knew it belonged in.

Solitude… A smile lifted the corners of her mouth.

That felt… uniquely and befittingly like Emma Swan.

****

He woke up alone. Emma's side of the bed wasn't even warm any longer.

Killian was slow to sit up, feeling his eyebrows tugging down in a frown.

She'd never left without telling him before. She'd never just left. Not without a kiss. Not without a smile and with him walking her to the door. Never.

He dragged his hand over his face, covering up a particular big yawn. He blinked his eyes open, turning to look around the room.

It was definitely later than the time she usually tried to get back home.

Killian leaned down over the bed, his hand swiping against the floor and feeling for his phone. And he didn't feel it. But he did see it laying on the nightstand beside him.

It left him with a curious look on his face. He hadn't remembered leaving it there. Because he… never left his phone there.

The lock screen time informed him that is was almost four. That meant she would have been gone for at least an hour. But it didn't explain why she'd left without a word.

Was she awake or asleep?

Killian slid his thumb across the screen to open it. And…

If he had been half-asleep before that moment, he was wide awake now at the sight of the picture he'd found on his phone.

For a moment, stunned surprise left him with nothing but an open mouth.

_What in the hell!_

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And it was just as immediate that he put some things together: he hadn't left his phone on the nightstand last night. He hadn't left his phone open to his text messages. And… Samantha Giles had not left messages indicating an interlude the last time he'd held that phone in his hands. Most importantly, the only way that all of the scenarios that he had wakened up to could have happened just one way: Emma.

_Shit!_

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_Shit!_

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_Fuck!_

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_Emma._

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Killian grabbed a handful of the blankets and yanked them away from him. His flew out of the bed, barely feeling the floor beneath him as he ran through the rooms of the apartment.

Fuck. She would have thought…

This was Emma. And this was all bad. All so fucking bad!

He felt his heart pound through his chest. He felt the strain of knowing Emma Swan and knowing that she wasn't going to open her door to him.

He sees her shutting down with a quickness. Damn. Never had he felt his heart beat so fast out of his chest as he did as he stormed out the door towards her.

_Damn. _There was an ache settling in his chest. An unfamiliar panic that was making his entire body tingle.__

Emma. He… She…

Banging at the door, he felt the roar of frustration tear out of him.

"Emma!" Her name left his mouth as a muted scream. The panic might have been unfamiliar, but it was real. "Emma."

She couldn't have been sleep. She had to have heard him. The neighbors upstairs would have heard him.

"Emma, open the door!"

_Fuck. Samantha._

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It would have been literally months since he'd heard from her. Fucking months! He hadn't went through the phone and personally contacted each woman. He hadn't thought to do that. He'd deleted everyone and everything. He'd deleted everything.

The banging became louder, more urgent.

She wasn't going to…

Killian felt the way his face fall, the pain almost too much.

"Emma, please! Open the door!"

It had felt like forever, but it reality it probably wasn't even more than a minute…

"Henry."

It's faint from the other side of the door. And it does something to his heart. Something that still doesn't feel like ease.

"Emma." It came out as a moan. He laid his hand and cheek against the wood of the door, closing his eyes at the feel of the unbelievable pain.

"Henry is sleeping." It was still barely audible, her voice. "Please stop. I don't want you to wake him up."

"Open the door," Killian murmured, his hand falling down the length of the door. "Please. Emma."

She was silent. No answer.

She didn't leave, did she? She didn't say her peace, be mindful of her son, and then leave? Was she even still on the other side?

"Emma, it's not what you think.' The ache in his chest was growing, throbbing. How much damage could a broken heart do?

He was thinking about himself. But he knew it was the same on the other side of that door. "Emma, please. Don't do this. Let me talk to you."

It didn't matter. She was ignoring him.

"Emma."

Never before…

He couldn't hear her on the other side. He imagined her in the same position that he was in, ear to the door and listening. But she wasn't.

Killian saw the walls enveloping her. She wasn't going to even let him explain.

The woman he…

Goddammit, he loved her. And he was losing her to mistakes.

Walls. A guarded stare. Squared shoulders. Stilted steps.

It would all be back.

But…

He couldn't lose her. Not over a mistake. Not when he loved her like he loved no one before her. Not when maybe one day she could love him, too.

Killian's face scrunched up in all the pain that he felt in that moment. The wetness he felt glistening in his closed eyes began to wet his cheeks.

_Fuck._

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Emma…

****

She shook her head, trying to push out every single thing that was in it. Which wasn't easy. There was so much going on.

She should have expected that he'd come over. Why? Because he would want to do what men do: try to explain their way out of things.

What was the point?

They'd never talked about if he was still as much the bachelor that he'd been before her. And maybe it was a naiveté about herself that had let her feel things she shouldn't have. Especially when Killian Jones was just a man. A man. Just like all the others.

And men were… just one facet as to why her life was as solitary as it was.

As it had been…

No. No. As solitary as it was.

It hadn't been long enough. The pain was still there. Still there? It hadn't even settled yet. Each step away from that door was a stab in some part of her body.

It took everything in her to muster up the will to walk away. It would be lonely. But wasn't she used to that? It was going to feel extremely bad to not have anyone. But wasn't she used to that as well.

Of course it happened after she'd realized that she loved him. Of course it couldn't have come to light any sooner.

Emma made it to the hallway before…

The wall against her back gave her support. Support that she obviously needed. Or maybe it still wasn't enough. Or maybe she just needed a moment.

She let her body slide down against the wall, finding herself crouching against it with her arms looped tightly around her knees.

This was her life, right?

Right?

Okay, she'd let herself cry… Over what fate had in store for her.

Her head bowed, her cheek laid against her knees. And she let the silent tears fall.

At least, for now…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this might have come out of nowhere for you guys! I'm sorry! I feel bad, but I just don't want people to forget that Emma feels like she's damaged. She loves Killian, but she's always been waiting for it to fall apart. And, maybe, she'll even feel comfortable in a way in her bubble and walls all up.
> 
> Well, lets just see how both of them come to terms with the fallout. Emma's still Emma. BUT... Killian's still Killian!!


	16. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So… this is a shorter chapter, and it's dealing with some triggers for Emma. I don't think I really delved into Emma's depression before this. But I've come up with the ending for this fic, and because of what I originally had planned for Emma's background, I think it's fine to have her work some things out in her head this way.

There had only been the slightest bit of apprehension when she had went to the door to leave the apartment that morning. There had been only the slightest fear that he would be there in the hallway waiting for her. Why had it seemed so plausible for him to have spent the few hours that were left of the early morning camped out at her door?

He hadn't been there. And that had been a relief. It had been. Yes, a relief. Because in all honesty, there had been nothing that she needed to hear from him. There had not been a single excuse as to why a woman had no qualms about texting him about getting together. There had not been a single excuse as to why she hadn't known that she was one of… who knew how many. And maybe… maybe she should have known that instinctively…

Maybe she should have known how easy it was for him to share parts of him with her and also share parts of himself with others as well. The rationale of the fact that that was what dating was just didn't do it for Emma. I like dating you… Because casual? She hadn't done casual with Killian Jones. She had done trust and openness. I trust you. She had given herself. And if he hadn't realized the significance of that, then…

He hadn't spent the night in the hallway. What he had done was leave a note.

_Emma,_

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_Do you realize how worried I am about you? I don't know how to do this with you. Am I supposed to bombard you and force you into talking to me? I don't know how far I'd get in that scenario._

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_Am I supposed to give you space and let you come to the realization that you've gotten the wrong impression of the situation (in which you never even let me explain)?_

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_Or am I really supposed to pretend like we were NEVER anything and just walk away from you? You do realize the impossibility of that, don't you? ___

_I know you, Emma. I'm just not sure how to prove the truth to you, or how I'm supposed to help you see it as well. ___

_Against my better judgement, I'm going to go for option two. Because I don't want to force you, and I sure as hell am not giving up on you. So think about me, Emma. Think about US. I'm waiting._

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_Killian_

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.

He'd said that he would give her time. The absurdity of him thinking that anything could be fixed between them was almost laughable. Not after…

"Did you see this email?"

Emma turned her head just slowly towards Belle's voice. Work. She was at work. Her mind needed to be on her job. And not on him. But it hadn't been easy to accomplish that task.

Go away. Just go away and let me do the one thing that I am successful in. Let me work in peace.

He was going to be added to that list of men. One more man who wrote on her slate. One more face to haunt her thoughts on how her life was nothing more than a mess.

"Emma, did you see this?"

"What?" Her gaze focused on Belle that time. It had been so easy to get distracted again…

Her fingernail tapped on the computer screen in front of her.

"It looks as if we'll be going on a trip." Belle looked up, her eyes wide. "To New York City."

Emma felt the way her face fell flat.

"When?"

"Um… we're supposed to be there next Saturday," Belle answered, peering into the screen.

Next Saturday? Trips weren't unusual in her line of work. They were rarely as glamorous as an all-paid vacation. Usually they consisted of meetings with designers and a direct contact of how that designer saw their creations being seen in their own vision and sampling designs being presented with care and caution. Sometimes the trips came up on short notice. Apparently, like this one here. And….

It just wasn't the right time for her to add one more thing on her plate.

Emma listened as Belle rattled off designers' names, hotel names, gate numbers, and departure times. But her mind quickly drifted…

It had only been hours ago that she had been making plans for this Saturday. With him. For him.

It didn't matter. She didn't matter.

_Damn. ___

There was an ache in her chest that made her only want her day to be over. All she wanted to do was be…

Not at home. Not with him across the hall from her.

Damn. The heaviness of her eyelids that she was accustomed to feeling had returned. How dumb had she been? Why had she let herself get involved with a man who lived across the hall from her? Why had she put herself in a predicament that would only make matters worse? It was because…

Emma mentally shook her head. To even equate everything that they had shared to deep feelings only made it worse. It hadn't mattered to him. Not in the way she had let herself believe. She wasn't the one, but one of any number. And Emma, she swallowed down small lump of emotion, would rather do alone than be one of any number. Especially when it had come with a pretense of being something else.

"Are you going to be able to bring Henry?"

Emma took in a deep breath at Belle's question.

"To New York?" She shook her head. "No, I won't take him with me." Such short notice. "I'll… I'll have to get someone to watch him for me."

She pushed the sudden thought of him from out of her head.

"I'll figure it out."

Just like she always did. Because it was more of the usual day-to-day life of a single mother who had learned long ago that this was what life would always be.

"It's five days in total," Belle told her. "Do you think we'll have time to do anything besides work? I mean, it is New York."

It was New York. For just a second, her mind and heart cleared.

A new city. And for five days. Maybe…

"Don't get your hopes up is all that I'll say," Emma murmured softly.

Still…

Five days. A change in scenery. A chance to get away and escape. Maybe…

Maybe work was going to have the chance to save her from herself in this instance.

****

Seeing the empty driveway should have eased the weight of the brick that was sitting on her chest. But it didn't. He was always home when she finally made it from work. So why wasn't he there now? Was it because of her?

His note came back to her. Space. He had offered her space.

Space wasn't going to be enough. At least not in terms of what he could offer her, when he lived right across the hall from her. Not when they shared this living space with one another. Not for long.

The brick was still weighing her down heavily as she got out of her car. It was only with a need that she moved so quickly. Her leaden limbs had been nothing but a hindrance. Every nuance, every bit of her trek, reminded her of him. How could it not?

The lawn, the porch, the hallway that divided them, his apartment door…

It wasn't a brick anymore. In its place was that slow ache that had a way of creeping straight from her heart and out into each muscle. And that ache had a way of contorting her face in a way that would be hard to hide.

Emma closed her eyes and took in a deep breath. It was only after she felt that she could control some of the pain that she finally pushed the key into the keyhole. And then she saw it, dangling from the rest of the keychain, the key he had given her. The key to the apartment across the hall.

Her teeth bit down hard on her lip as she walked into the apartment.

****

"How long are you going to be away this time?" he asked as he looked away from the phone in his hands.

Dropping down on the bed beside him, Emma smiled at the way Henry had asked the question. She resisted the urge to pull him into her arms so that she could hug him tight. Her constant. Her one thing in life that could never go wrong. At least not on his end. It was all on her to make sure he had a good and happy life. And she was trying her best. She really was.

"Um… I'll be gone until Wednesday, unfortunately," Emma told him. "And it's not even about the three days that you'd miss of school. I'm going to be super busy during most of the trip. Taking you along wouldn't be a good idea."

"So," Henry's eyebrows raised in wonderment, "am I staying with Killian?"

That had been his first thought? Emma felt her heart slam against her chest at the realization.

"No." She shook her head. "No. You're not going to stay with Killian." The tilt of her head was involuntary. "Henry?" The sharp intake of breath was accompanied by the thought of being honest with him.

But she couldn't be that honest with him. Not yet.

"I already talked to your grandparents," she told him. "They're going to come from Maine and stay with you while I'm gone."

Making the call to her mother had been bittersweet. She knew that they would have jumped at the chance to make the four-hour drive to Boston from their home. She knew that they would love to take advantage of having Henry theirs alone for nearly a week. And she knew that the only thing that would have made it better in their eyes was if she had been there the entire time. All of that hadn't made the call easier.

Facing her parents and all their perfection… Emma didn't know how ready she was for that. Coming from perfection like that… how had she, herself, failed so miserably? And, being the perfection that they were, they only saw the good in their daughter. Not the hurt of their daughter. It always made Emma wonder if it was because they were just so damned good at seeing only the best, or if she was just so damned good at hiding the bad parts of herself?

And then came the times where she needed to lean on family. Like this time. Not that it should have been a big deal in the least. It was just a reminder of more people she had to be right for…

Emma watched as a frown took over Henry's face.

"Why not just leave me with Killian?" That frown deepened. "He… He didn't… want to?"

Henry's question had stemmed from the mind of a child. As if the world revolved around him. As if anything bad that happened was his fault.

"No, Henry." It made her frown as well. "I didn't ask him." Her hand did smooth over his cheek then.

His hand closed over hers, stopping her right there.

"Why not?" he asked persistently.

Emma offered him a smile. "What? You don't want to see your grandparents? I know they miss you a lot."

Henry shook his head. "It's not that."

Emma moved her hand away from his cheek and watched him closely. It wasn't the right time to tell her son that what he thought he'd seen between her and the man who had invested time into him was now unfounded. That it was over.

This, this right here, was exactly why parents didn't introduce their children to significant others. Because there wasn't a guarantee. Like now. Their divide would try to affect Henry. It would be too easy to say that there hadn't been anything she could have done about it. Because, for all the things she tried to shield him from when it came to the physical aspects of what her relationship had been, Henry had been able to see the more important aspects of the relationship. Aspects that he had not seen when it came to anyone else before him.

"Well, it's a good thing that it's not that," Emma told him softly, evading the question at hand.

"Mom?"

"They'll be here that Friday," she informed him. "Maybe we can do a special dinner. Just the four of us."

The look on Henry's face said that he wanted to say something. It said that he wanted to continue with a conversation that she clearly did not want to. But he stopped himself. And Emma as grateful for that.

"Sounds great, Mom," he said instead.

**** 

She could have blamed the feelings on him. She could have blamed it on a loss of routine and the loss of someone who meant a lot to her.

She would rather blame it on herself….

Sometimes depression hit out of nowhere. Maybe this wasn't out of nowhere. Maybe she could put an idea to it. But that didn't change the fact that all she wanted to do was lay in bed and never get up.

Emma felt the way her weight fell against the bed as she laid on her side on the edge of the mattress. She closed her eyes as she dragged a pillow into her arms, feeling a tingle in every inch of her as she moved. That wasn't the only rhing she felt. There was a prickling of tears right behind her eyes that she couldn't ignore.

Why did she feel the need to cry? What was the point? What, exactly, was this sadness that she was feeling?

It was an all-encompassing sadness… A sadness that came from many places, she was sure, but had built up in that moment.

She'd done her best not to let it show at work. She tried her best to be the mother and provider that Henry had needed her to be. But it was in those quiet moments, when she was alone, that she couldn't escape the sadness from filling up every part of her.

And it wasn't all because of him. Maybe he had triggered it. Maybe? Okay. He had triggered it. He had set her down a spiraling path that she wasn't sure how long was going to last.

He'd triggered it, but it wasn't because of him that her life was the mess that it was.

It could be body-altering, depression. It could leave a person stagnant, with the inability to move. But the mind was always going. At least for her. Emma couldn't escape her thoughts of a life that seemed so worthless.

Sometimes alone could be good. Sometimes being alone meant that she didn't have to continuously play a part for someone else. Because playing a part only took away the thoughts momentarily. And when they came back, because they always came back, it came with a reminder of the façade that she was accustomed to having to share.

Sometimes alone could be bad. Sometimes being alone meant doing nothing but focusing on the details that made up a life of sadness and worthlessness.

And there was nothing but sadness flowing through her and consuming her.

This was only day one. Day one of a new beginning. Day one of starting her life over with the knowledge that she was in this world alone.

The overwhelming sadness within her came with tears that finally fell down her cheeks and onto her pillow. They didn't come with a cry. And that was something that she was grateful for. The headache that would follow wouldn't be as intense this way.

Emma pulled at the pillow tighter, holding on to something that was tangible in her life. Because her life was spiraling. Spiraling out into the darkness and leaving her lonely.

She heard the muffled vibration of her phone that was behind her and under covers.

If it was…

Why, as her hand flew behind her back in search of the phone, did part of her want it to be him? Why did a part of her wish that she hadn't reacted the way she had? Why was she wishing that the last twenty-four hours had been a bad dream, and that he would just hold her in his arms?

But it was only a part of her…

Because, she brought the phone around to her and peered at the glowing screen, she wanted nothing more than to ignore his call.

Emma hadn't expected his call. She had expected him to keep his word and give her time. But… here he was. Calling.

She listened to vibration as it rang in her hand. She looked at his name and his number as it flashed over her screen. But that was all she was going to be able to do. She couldn't answer him.

Was he across the hall? Was he that close to her again?

Eventually the vibrating stopped. Eventually, he was gone. And yet…

Maybe she wasn't going to be able to do this. She had her strengths, but running away seemed right in so many instances in her life.

A year lease. That wasn't even half over. And maybe…

The phone vibrated in her hand again. This time…

_I know what I said, Emma, but not hearing from you? I can't let you think one thing and not listen to my truth._

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_Will you please talk to me?_

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She had promised herself that she was going to find Henry a home that had a foundation. She'd promised herself that he would have roots with her. And this here? This wasn't going to give him roots. This right here was more of what she'd always given him.

Run away.

Sometimes that was the best thing to do.

Emma pressed the volume button on her phone until the phone silenced itself. Slowly, she brought her hand down to the bed and pushed the phone underneath her pillow. Out of sight, out of mind…

Maybe…

She was slow to lay her head back down on her pillow.

It was time…

She drew her knees up to her chest, hugging herself tightly.

To move on. Permanently.


	17. Chapter 16

Killian flipped his phone back and forth in his hands, his eyes focusing more there than on the steps he was taking through the aisle. The phone. It was a link to Emma. Or at least it could be. If only he'd use it.

But he had told her that he would give her space. And even though she hadn't commented back on that note, her lack of response had been his answer. Right?

_Damn!_

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It had been nearly a week. A week since all hell had broken loose and he had lost her. Had he lost her? It felt as if he had lost her. And, damn, the hurt that came from that knowledge was cutting him like a knife.

"Hey?"

The question came with a slap of Liam's hand onto his shoulder, nearly knocking him off his feet a bit and into the basket Liam was pushing.

"Hey."

Killian looked up at his brother, a deep breath filling his lungs.

"What?" He knew that there had to be a frown on his face. One that wouldn't be leaving anytime soon.

"Killian?" Liam's eyes cut on him, the concern written there plain to see. "What's wrong?" He came to a stop, turning around to face him.

Killian was slow to shake his head again. "Nothing." His voice sounded scratchy even to himself. "Nothing's wrong."

His gaze fell away from his brother. Instead, his focus turned towards the shelves filled with all things diaper duty.

He'd come to the store to just get away. To at least try to get out of his head for a while. To spend some time with his brother as he went on a quick run for baby Connor. And yet here he was, still in his head. Still thinking of her.

Liam's hand squeezed down on Killian's shoulder.

"Emma?"

Even the mentioning of her name had a way of twisting his mouth.

He hadn't went into details with Liam about what had happened between them. Not while he was trying to figure things out for himself. And in that week, he'd come up with nothing substantial. Nothing that had brought him any closer to figuring out how to save things.

Liam was slow to nod, moving back over to the basket. Leaning against it, he began his way back down the aisle.

Slipping the phone into his back pocket, Killian moved to catch up with his brother. Out of his head. He needed to get out of his head. And he didn't know how to do it.

He'd only shared the fact that his past had clashed with their present and that she walked out on him. He hadn't been sure of the rest of it himself. And until he'd figured some things out for himself, bringing anyone else into the problem wouldn't have helped. But it had been a week. And she…

"Liam?" he turned on his brother suddenly. "I'm doing the right thing, right?"

When was the last time he had went to Liam for advice about a woman? Or a girl, for that matter. Because it would have been just that long ago. When he would have considered himself a kid. And that would have been years ago. Because he'd never needed help with or advice about a woman. Why would he? What would cause him to need help with a woman? But this thing with Emma…

Liam inhaled a deep breath, standing tall once again as he watched Killian. He was deep in thought. He was questioning what he would say about the situation.

"What exactly are you doing, Killian?" he asked him quietly.

What was he doing? That question alone made him begin to question the whole scenario.

"I'm giving her space," he answered slowly. And his mind filled with the memories of that night. How he stormed to her door, knowing exactly what he would find. He just hadn't realized at the moment how her need to close herself off was going to hurt him.

"Because?"

Another odd question from Liam.

Killian felt the tightness in his mouth as he stared at his brother, who seemed the complete opposite of him. Where there was rigidity in him, Liam seemed as comfortable as could be.

"Because… I don't know if pushing her will work," he answered slowly. And all he wanted to do was pull that phone out of his pocket. He wanted the chance to get close to her again.

"Emma?" Liam said it with a tinge of disbelief and a lift of his eyebrow.

"Yes, Emma."

He didn't know what is was that had made him suddenly annoyed beyond belief. Maybe it was Liam's ability to be so laxed. Maybe it was the fact that there was a growing sadness within him that was so unfamiliar. Whatever it had stemmed from, it didn't matter. Looking for help from his brother was beyond him.

"Never mind, Liam," he muttered, turning his attention back to the stocked shelves of boxes and boxes of diapers before him.

There was now a part of him that wished that he had went home instead of heading for Liam's after work. It wasn't as if Emma would have been around. He hadn't seen her since that night. It had started out at his own hands, offering her space. But he soon realized that it wasn't so hard for her to make herself scarce during the evenings.

_Damn. ___

Killian balled his hands into fists at his side. It wasn't an anger. It was a hurt that he couldn't control.

"Killian?"

Liam's voice was soft from behind him. There was a hint of caution and care there.

"This is Emma we're talking about."

That made him turn.

The frown was a permanent fixture, but still…

"And what does that supposed to mean?" he asked him slowly.

"It means… that you know she responds with guards at all times. So… her reaction… shouldn't be surprising."

But it wasn't always with guards up. Because she hadn't come into his bed with a guard. She had given herself to him with an ease that had been surprising. But one that he had loved. And had not taken for granted. He didn't think that he'd taken it for granted.

"She wasn't always like that," Killian whispered, looking up at his brother. "Not with me."

And that realization came with feelings that were so new to him that he didn't know how to respond to them.

"Liam… I…"

The thought of loving her didn't hurt. It was the thought of never being able to tell her that. To let her know and be a part of that feeling.

"What happened, Killian?" It was soft and non-judgmental.

He bit down hard on his lip, looking down at the tiled floor beneath him. That question wasn't an easy one.

"She thinks that… she is one of the others." And that is what it came down to. "Which would mean that I lead her to believe a lie."

"So you think that she doesn't realize the truth is that you love her."

It didn't knock him off his feet. He didn't know how to describe the feeling that had just come over him. It felt like a brush of air filling his body and knocking him right in the chest.

And then it did hurt. It hurt like hell. Not to hear his feelings being manifested and voiced for the world to see and hear. It hurt because it felt like even that wasn't enough.

"I didn't tell you that I loved Emma," Killian murmured, not quite meeting his brother's eyes.

"No," he said slowly, and with a shake of his head. "You didn't. But…" His smile was small. "She wouldn't matter to you so much- not _you _anyway- if you didn't."__

And once again, Killian found himself outside of her apartment. His cheek had laid against that cool door. And he had felt the tears as the fell down his cheek. He'd never… He wasn't supposed to…

"Killian."

He watched as Liam moved the basket again, making his way farther down the aisle. But his feet seemed to be planted firmly on the floor beneath him. Moving would mean… It felt impossible.

He watched as the specific box of diapers was tipped over from its spot high on the shelf and it fell into Liam's hands. The whole act seemed to happen in slow motion. He watched as Liam moved back to the basket and dropped the box into it. And he was slow to finally turn his attention back to him.

Right there in the middle of the store. Right there in the middle of this aisle. And he had nothing on his mind but her.

No one else. No one else had made him feel the things that Emma had made him feel. And that included the sadness of seeing her walk away from not only him, but from them.

"I don't know if I'm doing the right thing." It was a whispered confession. Although he'd asked Liam prior, the need to have help had come back with full force. "If she doesn't talk to me, then how will she ever let me explain? If I don't talk to her, then how long is she going to continue to ignore me and let things go on like this?"

He watched as Liam pulled in his lip. His eyes had never left him, but he'd been quiet as he listened to him.

"You know Emma," he finally said in whisper. "You know what she can handle and what she can't handle. Killian." He took in a deep breath. "There are reasons behind the way Emma interprets things. I know that you know that a lot better than I do. So it's up to you to figure out what she'll be most receptive to. _If _you expect to win her heart."__

It made him think. Think of Emma and her past. It made him think of those moments she'd shared about her past relationships. About the hurt and the mistrust that had stemmed from the failed relationships.

Where he'd never had failed relationships because… what was a relationship to him? Before Emma? There were no relationships.

"A bit of advice, little brother?" Liam moved then, bringing himself to stand right in front of him.

Maybe giving her time to herself was the wrong thing to do, because Emma would have no problems with sinking farther and farther away from him. No matter how she felt about him. Because there were things that she felt about herself as well. This thing she equated to fate.

"What is it?" Killian asked, looking over his face.

"A man unwilling to fight for what he wants…" his eyes locked on his, holding firm and with insistence, "deserves what he gets."

And if he wasn't going to fight for Emma, then he deserved her silence…

And neither one of them deserved that…

Killian was slow to nod his head, his eyes blinking.

"Aye."

It was all he said, a gruff compliance. It was because… Liam was right. Of course he was right.

And Killian was far from unwilling to fight. For Emma?

He saw the lift of the corners of Liam's mouth as he simultaneously nodded and turned away from him.

_A man unwilling to fight…_

__

__

Liam has remarked on…

"I do love her," he called out to his back.

Liam was quick to turn around. Another nod.

"I know."

And maybe that did take away some of the pressure that had been sitting on his heart.

_A man unwilling to fight for what he wants deserves what he gets._

__

__

Never let it be said that Killian Jones wasn't a fighter…

****

"That was Mom."

Killian glanced up from the sketchpad in his hand to see Henry pushing his cell phone to the other side of the coffee table.

"She'll be home in about a half hour she said," he told him as he looked his way.

"Then… it's almost time for you to be heading home," Killian murmured.

Because even though their friendship hadn't been affected greatly by the change between he and Emma, there had still been a tacit understanding where Henry was home by the time Emma made it home for the night.

That time had a way of varying. Over the past week, that time had been getting later and later.

Killian's fingers tightened around the pencil that was in his hand. He tried not to have a reaction to Henry's words. It was difficult, because things still hadn't changed.

But who was to blame for that? It wasn't going to be Emma who did anything. She had already formed opinions and seemed to have no problems with abiding the rules that came with that decision. At least it seemed that way.

How? How had it been so instinctual for her to throw away everything that they'd had and never look back? But he knew. Somewhat. He remembered the words she had used to describe herself. He remembered the battle she had seemed to have with herself. A battle that he didn't always understand. Because… she wasn't those things that she had some commonly placed on herself. _I don't do this… Not like you… Damaged…_

__

__

"Killian?" Henry's voice had a cautious tone to it.

When he turned his focus back on the boy, he saw that there was a face that had matched the tone.

"Ah, yes, Henry?"

If there had been a quiet anxiousness in himself, he could also see it in the boy. Which only made Killian curious.

"I wanted to ask you something," Henry said slowly. "Can I ask you something?"

Killian twirled the pencil between his fingers as he watched him. Henry was one of those lads who… well, anything imaginable could have fallen from his mouth in way of question.

"Of course." He nodded his head. "What is it?"

And there was still a bit of caution in him, Killian could tell. But Henry sat up straight and looked right at him.

"What happened?" The pull of his eyebrows into a frown followed that question. "With my mom and you?" He shook his head. "How come…"

Still… they didn't seem like the sort of questions that he was supposed to be asking him. Not when it should have come from his mother.

"She… didn't say anything… to you, did she?" Killian gave a shake of his head. Of course she hadn't said anything to him. Idiot. "Nothing… Henry," he told him softly. "Nothing's happened between me and your mom."

And for a moment, he was silent. Only watching and reading him in only the way Henry could do.

"You guys never talk anymore," he pointed out. "Which is why she seems to want to make sure that I am at home by the time she gets there. Which is getting later and later."

Killian had noticed that, too. He'd noticed that her work day had gotten a lot longer over the past week. And when he was trying to give her her much needed space, he had tried to be out of her way. Being home when she was home had been a difficult thing to do. She wasn't answering his calls or his text messages. Which he'd picked up on rather quickly. Continually being ignored would have only bruised his battered heart. Meaning, he'd known to stop.

"Your mom and I…" Killian licked at his lip, thinking quickly as to how he wanted to handle the situation. "We'll be okay."

"So you're not right now?" Henry asked with a raise of his eyebrows.

An intuitive young lad, was he. A little too intuitive. The conversation reminded him of a past one he'd had with Emma. He'd never had to explain his intentions before. Especially not with a teenager. Yet, here he was.

"Henry…"

"Did you know that she was leaving this Saturday?" Henry asked him quickly.

He'd shared a piece of information that, no, he had not been privy to,

"I… didn't know that she was leaving." He sat up then, his eyes focusing on Henry closely. "Where is she going?"

Why was his first thought was of her running away? Why did he jumped to the conclusion that she was trying to get away from him?

Henry shrugged. "She has a business trip in New York. My grandparents will be here tomorrow to stay with me while she's gone."

No, he hadn't known. He hadn't known that she would be away.

It was all at the hands of a damn text message! A picture! How had it been so easy to walk out on him in the middle of the night? How had it been so easy to turn her back on him and to not even attempt to speak to him again?

Did she even miss him? Would she have even let herself miss him? Because that was an actual question. He didn't like the fact that the thought of her actually returning to the life that she'd had before him was an option for her. _His _life before _her _wasn't an option.____

"She'll be gone for five days."

Killian watched Henry as he began to get up from his seat on the floor. The information that he had imparted on him had been a lot. It had given him a lot to think about.

He didn't know how to define the look of the boy's face. He didn't know what he was thinking.

Killian placed the sketchpad and pencil on the couch cushion next to him. Slowly, he stood up from his seat.

"Was there something else that you wanted to ask me, Henry?" he asked him softly. Because there was something about the boy and his actions that hinted to something more. "Or something else that you wanted to tell me?"

And there was a bit of hesitation from him. Henry was slow as he picked up his phone and his book from off the table. It took him a moment before he stood back up straight and looked his way.

"I just… I don't know."

It only made Killian all the more curious. Because this was unlike Henry.

"She seemed happy." His eyes opened wide as he stared at him. "Like really happy. But now she's like she's always been." And that turned his face into a frown. "It just seems like she lost some happiness lately. It's hard to explain, I guess." He shrugged again. "You guys stopped talking, so I thought that maybe it had to do with that. Because she became really happy after you two became friends. Now that you two don't seem to be friends like that anymore, it's like that part of happiness is gone, too."

Killian was struck silent by everything that Henry had said. He hadn't expected him to interpret the situation as he had.

_She seemed happy. Like really happy… That part of her happiness is gone._

__

__

"Henry…" But he didn't have anything to add to that. "We'll… be… fine. Your mom is fine."

"Are you sure?" There was a bit of doubt in his voice.

Killian was slow to bob his head in a nod.

"I'm sure." He moved then, walking over to the boy.

His knowledge of this age was limited. But there was something very special about Henry. There was something very special about the friendship that he had with him. It was the concern that was laced on his face that made him want to promise him.

He'd known Henry all of… maybe five months. The time frame did nothing to lessen the way he felt about the boy. He meant as much to him as Emma had. And…

"I promise you, Henry," he assured him quietly.

Henry watched him silently for a moment. Then he gave his own nod.

"Okay." Killian took in a deep breath and exhaled. The smile he offered him was small. "You should go ahead and get home. Emma will be there soon."

Henry's smile was just as small. "Okay, Killian."

Killian watched as he moved then, with his book and phone in his hand.

"I'll see you tomorrow," Henry called to him as he headed for the door.

"See you tomorrow, Henry." It was a soft murmur as he watched him go.

When he stood in the apartment alone, that was when the thoughts in his head began to run wild.

If his brother's words hadn't sunk in to him from earlier, then Henry's words had clinched the deal.

Emma.

Henry had seen the change in her. He had seen what they had all seen.

Something true. Something real. They'd had something, had been discovering something, that was completely new for the both of them. And it was something that they'd both wanted and what they'd both deserved.

It had been so easy to throw walls up around her. It had been so easy to walk away from him and from them. But, by God, it wasn't what she wanted.

And if _Emma _wasn't prepared to put them back together, it was going to be up to him to do it. And if she didn't come willingly, then he was prepared for the fight… What was it that Liam had said?__

Ah, yes!

_A man unwilling to fight for what he wants deserves what he gets._

__

__

She had begun to mean… so much to him. And he knew, and not only because of Henry's words, that he had meant something to her.

It was going to be up to him…

He was going to make everything right.


	18. Chapter 17

She didn't normally look in on him. At least it wasn't an everyday occurrence. But this time, this morning, Emma opened Henry's bedroom door to find him still, of course, sound asleep.

She was going to see him after she got off of work. At that time, her parents would be there. And it wouldn't be just the two of them.

Emma couldn't help but smile at the sight of him. But she didn't linger. Closing the door back, she moved then and made her way down the hall.

It felt way too early. It felt like the sun still wouldn't be up when she made her way outside. Not that it mattered. The earlier she got out of the apartment the earlier she would be able to take that much of an easier breath.

And only to come home, this time, and be greeted by her parents. But she didn't need to think about that fact just yet. That was still hours away. Many hours before a grand reunion was made.

Emma caught her fingers in her hair, running through the loose strands as they fell over her shoulders. She blinked her eyes open wide as she took in a deep breath. Everything that she needed was in front of her. There was nothing else she needed to do in preparation of finally getting out of here.

She grabbed her coat from off of the couch, slipping it on on her way to the door. She made sure to button herself up first, knowing of the chill that she was going to meet outside.

Reaching for the lock with one hand and the doorknob with the other, she couldn't stop the thought of her night from reaching her. They'd be here. And then it would be time to put on the face that matched her family's perfection.

And it meant that she was not ready for…

He stood straight in front of her doorway, his head only then coming up and his eyes locking on her.

Emma heard her own gasp of pure shock and surprise.

" _What _in the _hell _are you _doing _?" It came out as a mousy squeak.______

She could feel the start of her heart. She could feel the way it already felt as if it was about to leap of her chest through her mouth. And not for the reasons he may have wanted.

He was quiet. His didn't immediately answer her. Instead, his hands came to clap on either side of the doorframe, pushing himself nearly into her apartment. His eyes- his deep blue gaze- was now roaming her face, taking advantage of having her right there.

It made her almost step backwards and farther into the apartment. But she refused to do that. She refused to give up any more power than she had already by his surprise attack. Her eyes closed though. She let her eyelashes fall to her cheeks as she took in a deep breath.

It had been a week. More than a week. She hadn't set eyes on him. And she had liked it that way. Except…

His scent… it was invading her. Even beneath closed eyes, his presence was too great to ignore.

"What in the hell are you doing?" She asked him again. And this time, she had shown enough weakness as it was, she opened her eyes and glared at him.

His eyes had traveled down now. He wasn't looking at her face, but had begun to track different pieces of her.

"I'm here to talk to you, Emma." It was just above a raspy whisper. His eyes turned back to her then. "We need to talk. Now."

It was so unlike him, she couldn't help but think. As his hands slid down from the doorframe, he began to push himself inside of the apartment.

"Wait a minute!" Emma exclaimed, automatically pushing her hand against his chest. He had caught her off her guard. That didn't mean that he got to push her over. Not after what had happened. Not now.

His hand shot out and locked around her wrist, holding her hand to stay laying against his chest.

"I'm on my way to work!"

She ignored whatever the physical and chemical reactions that she was having with him holding her hand. She wanted nothing more than to push all those feelings and thoughts away.

"I'm on my way to work." It was softer this time. As if he didn't know that. As if that wasn't the reason- or part of the reason- as to why he was standing outside of her door. "I don't know what you were thinking."

His eyes, that had held and studied the hand that was on his chest, turned back on her.

"I was thinking that you were going to leave absurdly early for work," he answered. And those eyes were burning into hers, watching her as if he hadn't set eyes on her in… "Which meant that I'd have plenty of time to talk to you. So…"

And then his hand was moving. It was moving over her hand, back around her wrist, and down the length of her arm.

"Emma?" There was something sincere about the way he'd said it. There was something sincere in his eyes. But maybe…

That didn't mean she had to trust it- she didn't have to trust him.

"We need to talk," he said. Again he began to push himself, as well as her, into the apartment.

It wasn't that she went willingly. Not really. But he'd had some leverage, leaving him to stand right inside.

"Says you." It left her mouth with frustration. Pure frustration of being ambushed.

"I miss you, Emma," he told her softly. And the angling of his head as his eyes looked worriedly at her was instant. "You really don't miss me?"

It didn't matter if she missed him. It didn't matter that her heart was beating like crazy right then. It didn't matter that the sadness on his face made her ache for better times. When it had been really really good.

"Emma." This time, the frustration was mixed in his voice. "This was all over a misinterpretation. All of you not giving me any chance to explain what the truth was."

"So it was all my fault?" And wasn't that the perfect way for him to look at it, she thought with a laugh. "Henry's asleep and I have to get to work. I can't do this with you."

That hand shot out again. This time it stopped short and reaching at her waist. He'd caught himself. Slowly, it reached back to lay at his own side.

"It wasn't all of your fault," he finally said. "I shouldn't have let it go on as long as it did. I should have made you hear me out when it first happened."

"And is that what you're attempting to do now?" she asked in wonderment. In awe of the man. "Henry's-"

"Asleep, I know." And that time he did move, closing the small gap that was between them. Still, all without touching her. "Come across the hall with me. Let's talk."

It was the way that he was looking at her. It was the intensity of each nuance that made him up. The battle of what was right and what was wrong was raging through her mind.

She didn't owe him anything. She didn't… did she? Because he was what he was: a man. And weren't they all the same?

"Emma?" It was close to pleading.

"I don't-"

"Goddammit, Emma."

He'd cut her off, refusing her the opportunity of letting her turn him down. His hand came back up to grab at hers and immediately began to pull.

She hadn't expected it. Hadn't expected him to take hold of her and pull her out of her home by the hand. She was surprised by the forceful push against her back as he closed the door behind her.

Emma held in her gasp of utter indignation as she watched him move back across the hall towards his own opened door.

"Emma." It was firm, and so was the look on his face. "We need to talk."

****

She went reluctantly. But Killian tried not to get down by that discovery. The point was that she was there with him now. And she was going to hear him out. She had to hear him out.

He took a second to watch her as she took each step into the apartment carefully. She wasn't going anywhere. Not yet. So he turned around and closed the door behind him.

It hit him then. It hit him hard. He had missed her. Damn. Didn't that mean anything to her? Couldn't she tell how much she had started to mean to him? She had to know. It was impossible not to know. But… there had been a veil that she liked to live her life behind.

The decision to wait outside her door had been easily reached. It came on the heels of a restless night. He hadn't talked to her in a week. She was getting ready to leave out of town for days. And she had made no headway to even try to fix things between them. Surprising? No. Unacceptable? Yes?

"What…" She sighed as she twirled around to face him. "What do you want to talk about?"

Did she intend for it to be strong? In her voice, it sounded as if she had intended for it to be strong. But it was the way her body caved in on itself that told him different. It was the way her shoulders hunched over and her fingers wove together in front of her.

Standing there, feet apart from one another, Killian couldn't stop the thought from entering his mind: the first time he had seen her. She had been so guarded. So closed off. She hadn't gave any suggestion as to what was underneath. And from that first moment, it was all that he had wanted. To get underneath.

Now? Now, she stood before him looking like a combination of _that _Emma and the one who had learned to open up to him.__

Emma had called herself broken. Was that what she wanted to be? _Was _she broken? Because he may have seen bits and pieces of a woman who didn't like certain aspects of herself, but there was nothing that he didn't love about her. Even the strong will that had made it so easy to walk away. He loved all of her.__

"I missed you, Emma." Killian had said it already, but that didn't matter. "You don't…" The lack of reciprocation, even in a look, confused him. He chose not admit that it hurt as well. "You don't miss me?"

"What does it matter…" She took in a deep and shuddered breath, her hands falling away from each other. "What does it matter?"

It was the way she had paused. And it was then that he realized something.

Killian took the five or so steps that it took to reach her. She didn't back away, just like she hadn't the last time. But there was still the hint of apprehension in her body language.

He couldn't help but be hit by the sweet scent that was all Emma. He envisioned for all of a second of how that scent had mingled with his sheets and his pillows. Just for a second.

He looked over her face as she did the same. Was there an actual softening there? It didn't matter really. Not just then. Not when he had realized…

"Are you refusing to give me the privilege of me hearing you speak my name again?" He hadn't meant the question to come out shakily. The knowledge that she hadn't said it had…

Emma's eyes turned quizzical then. Maybe she hadn't realized. He had realized.

She shook her head, her eyelashes fluttering.

"No. Killian. I wasn't refusing to speak your name."

Each word had been careful. So goddamn careful…

Did she not feel what he was feeling?

"It was all a misunderstanding, Emma," he told her softly. He almost reached for her. He almost touched her.

And then the floodgates opened. Maybe not the floodgates that he'd hoped for.

Emma stepped back. One small step separated them.

"What was the misunderstanding… Killian?" she asked softly. "It was exactly what I knew was going to happen."

Okay. He wasn't exactly sure where she was going to take that point.

Killian closed the gap between them with a step of his own.

"Meaning?"

And the eyelashes fluttered again.

"The girl?" she said questioningly. "The text messages?" And now there was a hint of disgust. "The pictures."

" _Picture _," Killian corrected for her, his eyes traveling off to the side for a second before focusing back on her.__

Emma's own eyes widened. "I'm sorry. The _picture _." She shook her head again. "It doesn't matter. The point is that it was all bound to happen." And the cave happened again. "It was the other shoe falling."__

Ah, more dawning…

She'd said it before. She commented on the demise of them before.

"You left me because… you got your proof?" He said it slowly as it mulled over in his mind. "You left because it was the sign of everything turning bad between us?"

Emma rolled her eyes as her arms came to cross over her chest. There was an awkwardness about her. What was she thinking?

"Emma?"

The need to touch her, to hold her, was growing. It was almost too…

"Is that what you wanted to hear?" Emma asked, her tone of voice changing. There was a harshness in her voice all of a sudden. "Because if I've given you your answer…" It was then that she tried to sidestep him, her leg almost crossing past him as if…

"That's not all." He felt the tug of the frown on his face as he did grab at her arm. "You can't leave yet."

That hold on her kept her planted right there beside him.

"What else is there to say?" she asked exasperatedly. Her eyes flew up to his with a look of absolute wonder.

Where was the hostility coming from? But he knew. Walls up Emma. Keep everything and everyone who she did not deem vital out.

But it was a protective thing. It wasn't really her…

"Don't be like that with me, Emma," he murmured. And if there was a glimmer of hurt that had escaped through the look on his face, well…

She raised an eyebrow. "How am I being?"

"You're not giving me a chance to explain."

"You have an explanation as to why there are women, Killian," she said indignantly, "but the fact is that they're there because they can be."

"What in the hell does that supposed to mean?" he muttered quickly, his confusion only growing.

"It means," and with that she pulled her arm out from under his hold, "that I never meant anything more to you than what was at face value."

"What?" It was disbelief. Total and utter disbelief. "Emma, you-"

"What?" Those eyes. Her own disbelief…

"That's not true," he finally whispered to her. "You goddamn know that's not true, Emma."

She shook her head. "If there was anything that was established with us, it's who we are."

And all of a sudden, who she was was completely hidden in a fog of confusion.

"You are the forever bachelor with God knows how many other women readily available to you..."

Where in the hell was all of _this _coming from?__

"That girl was from my past," he told her, watching as she circled around him. Again, her steps were so careful, purposeful. "She was before you. Never since you. You know that."

He didn't think it was sinking in. Taking in her demeanor… He didn't think that she was listening to him. Because…

"And _I _am the woman who doesn't get the happy ending in life," Emma continued, her voice sounding weak. "The shoe was going to fall." She shook her head again slowly. "That's all this was."__

For a moment, all he could do was just look at her. All he could see was the way that she had broken herself down. And because of the way _she _saw herself, she had also chosen to put him in a box with a nice and neat bow.__

"Is it really _that _easy for you to compartmentalize who you are and who I am like that?" he finally asked in a whisper. There was a part of him that needed that not to be true. But…__

It was true. Everything she'd said made it true.

Killian didn't wait for an answer. An answer that he knew would be only more self-deprecating. His mind was already spinning.

"This isn't about the text or the picture," he said slowly as the thoughts ran wild. He shook his head. "Why don't you make this about what it really is, Emma? It's about you and your inability to be and stay happy."

Her mouth opened only to shut right back. It was only a turn of her chin that she reacted to him.

"That girl was somebody from my past." It was point worth repeating. "She was before you. I told you that. And you chose not to believe me."

"Well the girl from your past had no problem with sending you pictures _after _the fact," she retorted, her chin raising even higher.__

Never had he felt more infuriated. Her reaction to… everything… made no…

"What can I do? What can _I _do?" Killian asked. This time it was him who took the step back. "There's nothing that I can do to make this right." And then another. "I didn't do anything wrong. It's you. And your inability to let yourself be happy. You can't let yourself be happy, Emma."__

If she took offense to it, if it meant anything to her…

What had happened? Why did she revert into this person?

She was standing there, stock still. She was giving… nothing.

"Everything I've done was to make you happy." Killian had whispered it. Where she was stoic, he felt emotionally charged. " _You _are giving up on us. _You _casted _me _aside when I have done nothing but let myself fall in love with you." It was an admission that had meant everything to him. But what did it mean to her, as she stood there _silently _? "I love you, Emma! How is that not clear to you?"________

And… still…

She stood there silently. The only reaction was her silence, and the slight heaving of her chest as it rose and fell. But what did that mean? When she stood there and said nothing… what did it mean?

What did he ever mean to her when she listened to him pour his heart out, and yet she had not verbal response to it?

If he thought the pain of her walking out and refusing to open the door to his was heartbreaking, then this right here was soul-crushing.

The pain's source was located in his heart, but the pain seeped out and traveled throughout. That was all while she… stood there.

"You know what?" If she wasn't going to move, if she didn't feel the prospect dwindling, then he sure did.

Killian moved then, crossing passed her and heading towards the coffee table. His keys laid there, waiting on him.

"I'm about to go," he muttered as he scooped up the key ring. "I am done with this conversation." He turned swiftly around back to her. Taking her in one last time and not liking what he saw. "Just as I am done with you."

It didn't matter that they had been in his apartment. All that mattered was that he was away from her and away from the whole damned situation.

"Lock the door behind you." It was a thrown mutter over his shoulder.

Pulling the door open without taking it off its hinges had taken a conscious effort. Slamming the door behind him, he never looked back as he stalked out of the apartment house.

****

She should have said something. She should have said something when he was standing in front of her. She should have said something when he'd said he loved her.

The tears clouding her eyes stung. But she knew that she deserved it. She deserved that he had stormed out on her in his own apartment. Because she hadn't opened her damned mouth.

_You are giving up on us. You casted me aside when I have done nothing but let myself fall in love with you._

__

__

_I love you, Emma!_

__

__

_How is that not clear to you?_

__

__

Emma felt the shuddered inhalation of breath as she tried to keep herself upright. But the exhalation broke her down though. The sob that escaped her mouth brought with it a rack of shudders that took over her whole body.

Why didn't she say anything? Why didn't she say it back?

He loved her? Killian loved her despite everything that she had put them through?

He had been right. What he'd said about her was right.

Emma's eyes darted across the space of the room. Bringing her arms up, she hugged herself as tight as she could.

She was alone. It was her own fault. She was alone. She had let her own struggles in basic life skills ruin everything. And it was ruined. Everything was ruined.

The hug, it needed to be tighter. The hold she had on herself needed to be tighter.

There was a simultaneous feeling of grief and a feeling of justification overcoming her. Her life…

What was her life at this moment?

It had taken everything within her to not crumple to the floor beneath her. Because she couldn't crumple. Not today. Not now.

Did he love her?

She had fallen in love with him…

And it had scared her. And she had ran at the first chance she'd had.

She hadn't waited or let him explain. She'd jumped to the conclusion that she had wanted to make. And she had turned back into that solitary and confined woman. Again.

He loved her?

_I love you, Emma!_

__

__

He loved her. She believed that he loved her.

Emma closed her eyes, her arms loosening their hold around her. As she felt the heat of her tears fall against her cheek, again, there was only one conclusion to be made…

None of it mattered. Because even if she couldn't blame it on text messages and photos, fate had still worked out the way it was supposed to…

It left her alone and in utter despair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I needed to add a little disclaimer...
> 
> In my mind, I totally see Killian's reaction being parallel to that of when Hook left Emma in that cell. Killian is hurt beyond belief. And even though he knows she's has things in her life that make her react the way she does, it still hurts like CRAZY that she didn't respond to anything he had to say.
> 
> So, even though he said he was done with her, he is far from done with her. BUT he needed to create some space between them. He wasn't prepared for her response. Take in his characterization in this fic. Take in consideration Emma's. And I hope you guys don't hate either one of them too much!


	19. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like this chapter needs a warning! This chapter deals with more of Emma’s personal issues with her depression. It may be a little more difficult to read, so be mindful of that. It turned into more angst than I’d first imagine. Please know that better times are ahead, (I believe this will be the last bit of true angst, if that helps!!)

Sometimes she hated when her mind went there. Because when she dwelled on the past, the affects it had on her present and future, it was always possible to find herself spiraling. When it happened…it was almost impossible to stop…

_Neal._

__

__

Married life hadn't been everything that she had thought it would be. But at that point in her life, she had been relatively young. In the end, the fact was that they'd grown apart. She'd failed at marriage. The reasons of that failure sometimes got convoluted when… the outcome was always the same.

_Jefferson._

__

__

Sometimes she wished that she could erase him from her slate. To get rid of the man who never really seemed to care for her in anyway Because… it was unfair. She had never meant much to him. So why had she let him mean so much to her? Especially in the aftermath…

_Graham._

__

__

Well… Graham was different. Graham had… loved her. He had tried to _break through _those walls that she had already surrounded herself by. Her reluctance and inability to let him know her without those walls hadn't always been a conscious thought. She did realize… eventually. It wasn't until he was gone, though, that she realized that it was all because she had pushed him away. Her chance at happiness had ended.__

_Walsh._

__

__

He had been her chance to do and be everything right. He had also been the one to make her realize, with a finality, that being damaged had afforded her a lifetime worth of solitude. Because she had done everything right by Walsh. She had been open with Walsh. And if even in _that _instance the streak of failure continued, then… it was her.__

Life hadn't been _easier _when she had realized that she was done with trying. Life had been… just as desolate and solitary. Maybe even more so. Depression had reared its ugly head. She dug herself into a hole that she hadn't seen herself coming out of. And then…__

_Killian._

__

__

He was everything that she _knew _she couldn't have. At least, that was always what she had thought. She shared with him that she was in pieces. She warned him that she wasn't like him. But that hadn't mattered. Not to him. He slipped past her defenses. He made her fall in love with him.__

So of course, just as she'd predicted, she'd found the thing that would make it all go away. He wanted her to believe that it was some grand mistake. A misunderstanding that she didn't want to let go of. And why didn't she want to let go? Because she was happier with the thought of things ending horribly, rather than believing that they had something real.

Emma had given into those self-doubts. She had done it willingly, gladly. Even when she had fallen in love with him, he was right: she had sought out her comfort zone. She had walked out on him. She had ignored his pleas. Worst even, she had not responded when he had tried valiantly to fix things.

And for that…

_I love you, Emma!_

__

__

She was still regretful. But… it was more than just the fact that she'd let him walk out on her. It was also the fact that she was so damaged that it had been the only thing she could have done. The result of that was him letting it be known: he was done with her.

So… now….

Was she happy?

Of course not. She didn't know how much he loved her- really loved her- but she did know how much she loved him. And that was…

It was better not to think about it. It was the only thing she could think about.

If there was ever a time that she'd wished to be normal, it was in this instance _right here. ___

****

The plane landed at eleven o'clock. They'd been expected to meet the designer and staff at noon. That meant heading straight over to the office from the airport. Their bags were sent to their hotel rooms, which they would not see for themselves for many hours.

"Emma, are you sure that you're alright?"

It was a question Belle had asked her numerous times in a variety of ways. But, the point of those questions were all the same. The truthful answer to those questions was always going to be the same. The answer she gave? Well, that was something altogether different.

"I really am fine." That was with sweet smile plastered on her face. The smile was an important part of the disguise.

But… she was far from fine. And whose fault was that? Who could she blame that fact on? Hm, those weren't hard questions. Not in the least.

Sitting there… listening to a conversation that she was supposed to be taking part in… she hadn't been able to help the way her mind kept drifting.

Day one was supposed to be about market trends and cost effectiveness. Right off a plane and they were supposed to be focusing on the numbers and trends that were most profitable for her store's demographics.

It was important. It was supposed to be vital. And yet…

She was used to compartmentalizing her feelings. She was used to focusing and studying on the task at hand. Especially in work instances. _Work _was supposed to help, having a finite focal point. But this time? This time, it wasn't having that effect. And she needed it to have that effect. Because when work didn't fuel her thoughts and push her through her day, then she was stuck thinking about a life that was… ruined.__

So… Belle's question…

At least it brought her back to the moment at hand. She was grateful for that.

Now…

_The cost effectiveness of bringing in the a new line of women's wear that priced in the range of fifty to one hundred fifty dollars could only be substantiated if, and only if, the demographic target was being met in the shops. Looking at the sales of the last quarter…_

__

__

Emma tried. She tried really hard to listen to the ins and outs of what had brought her here. But…

She needed this to be a lot easier. This was supposed to be the distraction her mind had craved. So why in the hell wasn't it working?

Emma tilted her head, a slow and measured movement, and brought her fingers to sift through her hair.

Okay, today wasn't the easiest.

If things didn't get easier… If she didn't get some type of semblance to her life again, then…

How in the hell was she ever going to come from underneath everything that had been built on top of her?

"So how are you getting along with your grandparents?" Emma asked over the phone, smiling just a little at the thought of what home was looking like right then.

"It's great, Mom," Henry said excitedly. "Grandma has promised to bake all of her famous pies. And I think… I think Grandpa wants to teach me how to drive. Isn't that cool!"

The description of her mother sounded about right. It was her father's ideas of bonding with his grandson that surprised and shocked her.

"Henry, you're thirteen," Emma reminded him with a warning. "Do not let your grandfather put you behind the wheel of a car just to make him look like the cool parent."

Henry laughed at that. But… he hadn't responded.

"Henry, no driving."

"But, Mom!" he said exasperatedly.

"No driving." It was a firm and it put the matter to rest.

He was barely a teenager. Her father was going to have to find a better way to bond with Henry while they were there. Like…

She didn't want the thought of Killian and the friendship that he had formed with Henry to drill into her head. She didn't want the thought of him bent over the table next to her son, examining a page of the negatives from photos Henry had taken. Not wanting them didn't stop them from appearing.

"Well how about go-carting?" Henry finally asked. "Would that be okay?"

"Go-carting sounds like a great alternative," she told him softly. "Have fun." She was happy for the new thoughts… The two of them out there on the track. In fact, she could see the three of them. Her mother wouldn't have been one to be left behind while the guys went out for fun.

They didn't get to see each other much. A lot of that blame could be placed at her feet. That didn't diminish the love they had for each other in the least. It was a fact that Emma could smile about. Her own life may have been riddled with indecision and struggle, but Henry… Henry was right up there in terms of perfection with her parents. Lucky.

"Oh, Mom?"

His calling of her brought her attention back to him.

"You didn't… tell Grandma and Grandpa about Killian."

Henry saying his name…

"You have to let them know that it's okay that I, you know, go over there."

No, she hadn't told them about him. Killian. She hadn't told them one bit about him.

"I'll make sure to let them know, Henry," she told him. She strived for a normal tone. Something that wouldn't give away anything about how the topic of Killian Jones had only brought real life back to the forefront of her mind.

"Okay. Good. I think that Grandma wants to talk to you anyway."

He was excusing himself from the phone, having had one dream dashed and an error fixed.

"Actually, I'm not going to be able to talk to her right now," she told him quickly.

"But what about-"

"I have to get back to work right now, but I will call back and talk to all of you at another time."

"And Killian?"

His name, again. This time, it was trying to get at her heart.

"You're supposed to tell them about him."

"I will send her a text right away to let her know that you and Killian are friends, and you can spend time with him," she promised him.

"Okay." There had been only a slight apprehension to his voice.

"I'll talk to you later. And Henry?"

"Yeah?"

He was her constant. The most stable thing in her life.

"I love you."

"I love you, too, Mom," he told her easily.

And it was that easiness that she thought about as she disconnected the call. It was always easy with her son…

It hadn't been a façade. She didn't go in feeling the need to play a part when she'd called home. But the end result had been more of the same: a sadness for her and her life that couldn't be ignored. And it was only day one.

Emma slipped the phone into her pocket. And… she felt it. She felt the ache that accompanied the familiar sadness already seeping into her bones. Just one more reminder of her unhappiness. An unhappiness that stemmed from…

She couldn't pinpoint the source.

If she thought about it, then maybe…

Emma didn't want to think about it. It would be just as easy to focus on the feeling instead of the cause. That creeping feeling was only getting louder.

She was alone. There was never better time for her to feed the depression.

****

She wasn't surprised by how disastrous the trip had been or how every aspect of her work was affected by her personal problems. What had surprised her was…

It had never been this bad. Or, maybe, it was the fact that she had never realized that it was ever this bad. Because this time… it was bad.

Why had she let it get this bad?

Emma found herself in a very familiar position. Curled up in the bed, whose firm mattress still had the ability to feel like quicksand with every movement. Not that it mattered, because there was nothing better than curling up right there on the edge, hugging a pillow to her chest.

She could feel the source of the dull ache. It was thrumming with every beat of her heart, right there in her chest. Like her heart, it was as if every beat enabled the stream of pain to course through her body. As long as she laid there, as long as she stayed perfectly still, then it was only internal and not external.

As the tears simultaneously pooled at the crevices of her eyes and streamed down her cheeks to her pillow, Killian was one of the thoughts on her mind. It was a battle that she was glad to give up on, if just for a little while.

The last time they were together played in her head over and over again. It was the loneliness of the nights in the hotel room that had brought them to the forefront. This time, it was just a subset. A branch to connect her depression to.

Killian wasn't the cause of the overwhelming sadness that she's found herself in. Of course, he wasn't. She had been battling that for nearly a decade before she had ever met him. It had been his willingness to look past it that had made her want to look past it. She had wanted to be over it. Well… there had still been parts of her that was more than willing to go back and live in the doubt and depression. It was exactly why they'd ended up the way they had.

Emma did move then, bringing her knees up to her chest and wrapping an arm around them. Of course, the sting of pain radiated from each and every miniscule movement. But the outcome, the feeling of being tightly compacted, made it all worth it.

He had loved her. Killian had told her that he loved her. It would have been so easy to dismiss his words as lies and a ploy. But that wasn't what she had done. Because she didn't feel like his words were anything but true.

Emma trusted him. How different that felt, to trust in someone so easily. What a change!

She had fallen in love with him. Against her own nature she'd fallen in love with him. And true to her nature she'd looked for any excuse to sabotage her own love. She looked for an out and she took it She took it and ignored any and all efforts he'd made to fix things.

It was hard to fix things in a broken person. And she was as broken as they came.

Killian had known that she was broken. He had loved her anyway. He wanted to love her. He had wanted her to realize that, no, being broken didn't mean that she couldn't be repaired. It didn't mean that she couldn't be happy. That was evident to see. It was in the way that he had said that they were the real thing. It was in the way he had said he loved her.

Emma's head dug further into the pillow, trying to search for some sort of comfort. She came up with very little.

Killian had loved her, despite her flaws. She knew that he hadn't fully understood what it meant when she said that she was broken. She hadn't fully comprehended the extent and causes of them herself. Yet, he had wanted her. And not only her. She didn't come alone. She was a packaged deal.

The friendship he had with Henry had nothing to do with her. But they were still a package. She hadn't realized what kind of influence a man in his daily life could have on her son. He had a father. A good father. A good father that was a plane flight away… Killian hadn't tried to insinuate himself into Henry's life. It was an organic thing that had grown and flourished.

Emma's smile, despite the silent tears, was small. A genuine feeling for a genuine relationship that she had been witness to. A genuine feeling of love, still, for the man who had been so unexpected.

Giving up, giving in, had been the worst decision of her life. Because he wasn't Jefferson or Walsh. He wasn't even Neal or Graham. She wasn't the same woman who was in relationships with those other men. Killian…

Killian.

How much did it matter though, really? It didn't change the fact that she was broken. Loving him didn't fix her. Having him in her life didn't fix her. Not having him didn't change what was wrong with her on the inside.

It did matter though… He mattered. To her. To her life. It had to matter, because it was loving him that had made her want to fix herself.

How many times had she found herself in this position before? Emma, in bed, body curled around itself, tears streaming down her face, feeling despair for a life that was so empty…

She didn't want to be empty. Not anymore. But…

Her arm tightened around her and her head dug into the pillow again.

As much as she wished that she could have been different in those last moments before Killian walked out, as much as she missed having someone who she was enough for...

She no longer wanted the feelings of pain, doubt, or worthlessness coursing through her mind and body. It was about her. A decade of self-loathing had battered her mind, body, and soul. And if she didn't fix her- for her- then she would have continued to live the lie.

It was about her.

Emma Swan.

It was so easy to see the bad things. But it wasn't all bad. She wasn't all bad.

That realization, that feeling, didn't always stay. She wanted it to stay. She wanted to know that life didn't have to be this right here.

Alone.

She didn't trust herself to be able to do it on her own.

If she could have done it on her own, then it wouldn't have been years.

No.

Not alone.

It was bigger than her. More than her own comprehension.

She wanted to be better. She needed to be better. She was just going to need help to do that.

The acceptance of that, from a woman who lived her life independently and had liked it like that, was an accomplishment that hadn't been lost on Emma in that moment.

A turning point.

Of her life.

And without it…

The truth of the matter was that…

Without help, her life would do more than spiral. It would completely fall and crash. There would be absolutely nothing left.

****

"I know what an inconvenience this is going to be," Emma said apologetically into the phone.

She had never made it a habit to lie. Especially not to her parents. But this was one case in which she couldn't be honest.

"We understand that business comes up, Emma."

Yes, her mom was empathetic to Emma's plight. There was still a hint of distrust in her voice. As if there was something else she could have taken from her words.

"So… how much longer are you going to be in New York?" she asked.

New York. That reminded her… It wouldn't be long before she would be hearing an announcement about boarding… The thought made her slip down into her plastic chair as she turned to glance at her bag beside her.

"I will probably make it home Sunday." She had already confirmed to her job that she wouldn't be back in until Monday. A couple of extra days off from work was exactly what she needed.

"Then a full week." She heard her mother's sigh. "We were planning to stay that long anyway. It's just that now we won't have that extra time to spend with you. Which is really sad, Emma, because we don't get to see you that much as it is."

It wasn't about a guilt trip. It was more of… an observation. A good observation. The correct observation.

"I'm sorry about that, Mom," Emma whispered into the phone. "Hopefully… Henry is picking up all the slack that my absence has created."

There was a laugh that came through on the other end of the line. It was a laugh that was so carefree. Emma wished that she could enjoy it for what it was. For what it signified about her mother.

"We're having a lot of fun with Henry. It's going to be up to him to decide what he wants to share about his adventures with his grandpa." The other small laugh spoke of secrets that were between grandparents and grandchild.

"Mom… he didn't…" Emma didn't finish the question, thinking better on it.

"What, sweetheart?" The question was far too innocent.

"I'm just hoping to find my son in one piece when I finally make it home." It was images of Henry behind the wheel of the battered and well-driven pick-up truck that was older than Henry himself. The truck that her father seemed less than keen on ever getting rid of.

The public address went off from somewhere above her head, sounding far louder and more conspicuous than it should have. Emma pressed the phone closer to her ear and covered the other one with her hand.

"Mom, I'm going to have to go now."

"So soon?" The question sounded perplexed.

"I'm sorry, but I have another meeting that I'm going to be late for if I don't get in there soon." Another lie.

"Okay, Emma." There was a smile in her voice. "We will see you when you make it back home."

Right. Home.

"Goodbye-"

"Oh, one second though, Emma," her mother said quickly. "Emma, your friend? Killian? From across the hall?"

She'd said his name. Her mom had said his name. Her heart slammed against her chest.

"Yes?"

She didn't want to hear it. She didn't want to be reminded of his perfection, which would only remind her of her failures. Whatever her mother was going to say, she already knew, was going to put him in a light that he would deserve.

"I just wanted to say that it is so nice to see the relationship that he has with Henry," her mother continued. "There hasn't been a day that has gone by that Henry hasn't spoken of him or a day where he doesn't interact with him. And, Emma, it is a sight to see! How lucky you must feel to have him."

There was a day, in her past, that would have been true: she'd had him. But now…

"They get along well," she agreed softly. "Mom."

"I know. You have to go. I'll talk to you later, sweetheart." It was soft. It was full of love. Of course…

"Goodbye, Mom."

Emma was slow to pull the phone from her ear. Disconnecting the phone from her end, she slipped it into her pocket. But empty hands made her feel restless. Her eyes turned on the carry-on bag that sat in the chair next to her. Grabbing at the front pocket, she reached in for her boarding pass.

Her eyes blinked at the thought of the recently ended phone call. Of course! Of course….

It felt fitting that her mother, and perhaps even her father, had found it easy enough to get drawn in by Killian. It would have been due to the sheer openness of her mother and her need to seek out the goodness in everyone. And it would have been due to the fact that Killian had a charm about him that he liked to use to his advantage.

It should have put a smile on her face. It should have eased some of the sadness that was currently running through her. But it didn't. It only made her more aware of that sadness.

Never had she been more aware of her… problem.

(Was it a problem, depression? Yes, in her case, it was.)

It was then that she heard it…

_Now boarding flight… ___

Had it been a half-hour already? Yes, it had. But they would be boarding first-class first. It would still be a while before she would be seated and situated.

Emma had lied to her mother. Lied and said that she would be in New York on business and wouldn't even be home until Sunday. A lie. All of it had been a lie.

She wanted the tension to stay away. She wanted the memory of why she was returning to Boston, but not home, to wash over her. She wanted to remember the fact that she was taking control of her life and trying to make it better. For her...

It was for Emma, first and foremost. But it would be for them, too. If she was well… If she wasn't sad and depressed…

Sometimes it didn't seem like a happy ending could come from anything she ever attempted. But she wanted to try. She had to try. She owed it herself. To Henry. To her parents. To…

Emma owed him things, too. She owed him a lot. And if he was willing to hear her out one day…

Killian hadn't called her once. There hadn't been an attempt to reach out to her. How could he not think of her when he was enmeshed in her life? When he was still seeing Henry and meeting her parents? How could she not be on his mind?

She hadn't known an angry side to him. She had made him angry. And he had said…

_I am done with you._

__

__

There had been some context to it.

_I am done with this conversation._

__

__

That didn't change the words. What he'd said to her.

_I am done with this conversation. Just as I am done with you._

__

__

Sometimes, if she thought about it too long…

She was doing this for her. It was the one thing that Emma had to keep in the front of her mind. Her. Emma. Because if he was done with her… at least there was going to be one thing that she was going to take from her errors and mistakes. And that was…

She took in a deep breath at the mere thought of it…

She was going to get herself back.

****

It was an eye-opening event. The internet could be full of misleading information. It was important to sift through the unreliable sources and seek out the credible ones. Finding information on something that had distinct qualities of herself was… It was eye-opening.

The plane was barely half-full with passengers. She appreciated that fact as she found herself sitting alone in the entire row of seats. It made concentrating on the search easier.

Emma had never put a name to the way she felt. In all the years, she never thought about the way she felt as being any different than normal. It was normal that she was alone. It was her fate in life that separated her from others. It was because of who she was that there was no happy ending for her. Instead of happiness, the only thing she would ever have was loneliness and despair.

Her search told her something different…

Clinical depression was an interesting read. Emma could see some of herself in those twelve key points. Some, but not many. She didn't think the specifics fit her just right.

God, was she really about to confront a decade-long issue?

Yes. Yes, she was…

Would a doctor believe her? Would they take her at her word and be able to diagnose…

Emma stopped mid-thought. She was doing it again. She was putting doubt in herself and seeing a situation in her life with nothing but despair.

It wasn't as if she'd never admitted to being depressed. What she hadn't done was delve into it and admit that her depression was severe and needed to be treated.

The plane ride would be a quick one. Getting to the already reserved hotel would be just as quick. From that point…

Could the feeling of loneliness really be taken away? Could she really be helped? She wanted the help. She wanted everything that she thought she couldn't have. If that could also mean…

Killian was a thought on her mind.

Emma wanted to fix her. She had not been whole in a very long time.

There was nothing more that she wanted that to be whole again.


	20. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't realize how much I missed the interaction between these two until I got to the end of this chapter....

"Killian."

The first time he saw her, it had been surprising. Emma looked so damned much like her. Standing in the doorway of her daughter's apartment, she reminded him of Emma. The only stark contrast, besides the years between them, was the short brunette cut versus the flowing waves of blonde of the other.

"How are you today, ma'am?" he asked kindly, offering up a dashing smile.

"I am fine." The slight tilt of her head, it was all Emma. "Except for the fact that you called me 'ma'am' again. We talked about this. It's Mary Margaret."

Mary Margaret. Yes. Almost every angle of her face… There was a softness in the older woman that was quite unique to her. It wasn't that Emma lacked a soft side. It wasn't that in the least. No. It was the fact that softness just seemed to radiate from Mary Margaret. There was something naturally warm and inviting.

"Of course." It came with a slight nod of understanding. "I will try to get better at that." He smiled again. "Ah… is… Henry all ready to go?"

Mary Margaret moved then, stepping aside and allowing him to see inside.

"He's almost ready. Come on in and wait."

There was only a second of hesitation, a moment where he questioned the act, before Killian followed her inside.

Hospitality seemed to be another one of those things that came naturally to her. She offered to open up the home as if it were her own. There had not been a moment of hesitation from her in way of acceptance.

Watching the way Mary Margaret closed the door behind him, Killian couldn't help the thought that came to his mind. He wondered… what exactly did Emma's parents know about him beforehand. He was curious to know what Emma had said in passing about their… relationship. If she had said anything beyond the fact that he lived across the hall and was a friend to Henry. He wondered if she had mentioned that, at one point, he had meant something to her as well.

"I told Henry to go and get his things because I was sure that it was you at the door," Mary Margaret continued to explain, turning back from the door to look at him. "Do you want to have a seat?"

"Well, if Henry's on his way out…"

"Killian, have a seat."

The firm and strong request came from across the room, bringing Killian's gaze swinging towards it immediately.

The voice wasn't the only thing strong about the man who was making his way into the living room. There was something about the way his eyes cut on him. Where Mary Margaret had been inviting, David had been far more cautious.

"I guess… I will be having a seat." Killian nodded towards the other man. "Hello, David."

"Killian." That was his acknowledgment of him. A simple nod and his name.

Killian tried to keep the smile hidden as best possible. It was a bit funny, he mused as he walked over to the couch. The whole scenario was a bit funny, to be honest. Emma looked so much like her mother that Killian could not look at Mary Margaret and not think of the woman who… Hm…

He wondered how far passed the physical that the traits extended, because it was her father that she seemed to take after in terms of personality. He saw Emma's strength. He saw the strong-will and perceptiveness.

Standing before him were Emma's parents. As Killian looked at the both of them from his seat, he saw it: bits and pieces from each of them had made of Emma. What he didn't see in either one of them, no matter how hard he looked, was the pain that he knew that sometimes plagued Emma herself.

Emma.

He was doing it to himself. She was a fixture in his head. He could put some of the blame on himself, but not all. She wasn't going to leave him alone. At least, not anytime soon.

"Henry said that you were guys were off to the skywalk observatory."

David's statement brought him back to the matter at hand. He was grateful for the break.

Killian tracked David's path across the living room, making his way towards the couch himself.

"That's right," he said with a nod. "I hope I'm not stepping on any of your own plans with the lad." He raised an eyebrow in question wih that.

"No, not at all," David assured him, rather gruffly.

It was the way that he was looking at him. It was as if the older man had something on his mind that he wanted to get across. Only maybe he didn't quite know how he wanted to proceed.

"Henry's been looking forward to it since yesterday," David continued. Finally coming close enough to the couch, he took his seat at the opposite end.

"It's been getting clearer out, making the view just that much better."

What was the nervous tension for? Killian was waiting to take their grandson out for the day, not their daughter. They didn't know about the kisses or caresses that had taken place right where there on that couch. So the heat creeping up into his cheeks was unfounded.

"I think Henry will have a good chance to take some great pictures today."

"We've seen the new hobby that our grandson has picked up because of you," Mary Margaret said lightly, a smile crossing her face.

Because of him.

"He's picked up quite a bit of knowledge, yes," Killian agreed softly. It put a smile on his own face. "It's been a fun hobby as of late for me as well."

"That's quite the friendship that you two have formed," David murmured from beside him. "It's interesting to see that Emma allowed it to happen." He turned towards him then, the look on his face matching his tone.

"Aye," Killian agreed slowly. "It took some time before… Emma… warmed up to the idea."

"And now?"

The look on Mary Margaret's face was almost too telling.

And now? What to say to that question? Now…

"Hey, Killian!"

It was the sound of Henry's voice that made Killian shoot up from his seat on the couch

"I'm all ready to go."

And so was Killian.

"Then we should be on our way," he breathed out, sharing a look between both Mary Margaret and David.

Henry was quick to speed over to them, a smile plastered on his face and his eyes bright. It was for Killian and their trip, he knew. David was right…

Placing a hand over the lad's shoulder, Killian couldn't help but think that it was definitely quite the friendship. Despite the state of the tear between he and Emma, their friendship had stayed intact. Exactly as it was supposed to.

"Are… are you sure that you have to leave now?"

Another curious question that brought Killian's gaze up to the woman.

"Mary Margaret."

Killian wondered if there was something that he was missing between husband and wife. What was it that they were both, in their own way, trying to convey to him.

"We really should be going," he told them. The hand on Henry's shoulder gave a firm push towards the door.

"Then maybe when you return?" Mary Margaret asked. "You know what? Don't eat. Don't eat!" Her energy was astounding. "I will make us all dinner. That is, if you're not busy afterwards, Killian."

The look Henry gave him, an all-knowing smile, should have been another warning.

"Um… that would be…" Was he getting ambushed in some sort? "Very nice of you, Mary Margaret. Thank you."

Her smiling eyes were her only answer as he fell behind Henry's lead to the door.

Killian listened quietly as the goodbyes were exchanged between grandson and grandparents. It was then, as he watched the interaction of them all, that he realized what was before him.

Emma hadn't talked much about her parents. It only made him more curious since he'd gotten a better perception of those things plaguing her. Maybe that's why she never got into the fact that she had the perfect family life.

For almost all of his life, his family had been his father. Losing his mother when he could barely be called an adult was the true blow. It had always been just Liam and himself. When family meant everything to a man, it was sobering to know that family consisted of only two people.

There were hugs and kisses on the forehead between the three, bringing a smile to Killian's face once more. It was easy to see how much both Mary Margaret and David loved and cared for their grandson. The way they spoke of Emma? Yes, it was a family worthy enough of envy.

He'd thought that…

Liam was now on a path of having this scene for himself. He was just at the beginning of a budding family. And Killian…

He pictured her in his arms, placing a kiss on her forehead. He imagined the words slipping from his mouth and into her ear. This time… the words were returned. They weren't dismissed so carelessly as they had been in reality. Where it had been so easy to stand there stone-faced and without a word.

Watching as Henry moved to open the door, Killian swallowed the lump of emotion that had risen in his throat. Too many thoughts that were misplaced at that time.

"Have fun!" Mary Margaret said it happily as they made their way out of the apartment. "Remember, dinner will be all ready by the time you get back."

Killian offered up a final smile to the two, the curiosity only growing more.

"See you then. Mary Margaret." He nodded to her husband who stood right behind her. "David."

It wasn't until the door was closed and they were half-way out the apartment house that he heard the laugh coming from Henry. It was a small laugh, but such genuine amusement in the boy.

"What?" Killian asked, grabbing at Henry's should. "What's so funny?"

Henry turned back to look at him. "My grandparents are funny." He smile was huge, crossing the span of his face. "You know what they want, don't you?"

The question left him confused. He'd noticed a distinct difference in them today. They had always been friendly. Mary Margaret had always been inviting.

"What do they want?" he asked, instead of delving into the realm of possibilities himself.

Henry shook his head. "They want to know about you and Mom."

Another dawning moment. One that got his heart beating just a bit faster.

There was nothing between him and Emma. Not anymore. If she hadn't made that clear to him, then he had made it clear to her when he walked out on her. There couldn't be anything between them. Not anymore. Not when…

It wasn't the pace of his heartbeat that he noticed then. It was the ache that began to throb.

"There's nothing…" Hitting the porch and being greeting by the cool air, Killian looked at Henry, conflicted. "We're friends."

He'd promised him that things would go back to the way they were. And now… he realized that it was a promise he shouldn't have made to the boy.

Henry offered him a confused frown, but was silent other than that.

"I'm sure you mom will straighten them out when she returns tomorrow," Killian told him softly.

Henry looked away from him, his eyes turning straight ahead.

"She isn't coming back tomorrow."

Henry's words were confusing to him. They did not making any since.

"Tomorrow's Wednesday."

"She said that she won't be back until Sunday now," Henry told him. "She said some more work came up, so she needs to stay in New York for a few more days."

It was another slam of his heart. It was something unexpected, because it shouldn't have mattered.

That would have made her trip a total of eight days. He hadn't seen her since…

Killian mentally shook his head. It wasn't so easy to get her out of his mind. He was failing miserably. There was a part of him that wanted to believe that walking out on her had been the right thing to do. There was a larger part of him that wanted nothing more than for her to realize her own worth and let them both be happy.

He watched as Henry broke away and headed for the car.

He wanted them all to be happy.

Damn.

Damn!

He just wanted them.

****

Killian held the beer bottle up to his lips as he leaned back, tipping the chair with him. His eyes stayed focused on Liam and Connor. Father and son. Liam played the role of daddy so well. It was almost sickening how he had taken to it. Almost, but not quite. Watching the way Liam curved his body into the baby, there was a sense of paternal instinct and care for Connor that was inescapable from seeing.

His head dropped back and his eyes closed. Taking in a longer swig from the bottle, he tried to bring himself to the belief that a mere beer would ease his troubles.

"You wouldn't be so moody if you talked to her, you know."

The fact that Liam had whispered it should have been the clue that he realized that it was a touchy subject.

Killian brought the chair back down on all four legs. He would have rather had Liam hold his attention on the dozing baby or on the movie playing up on the television. But, of course, that wasn't the case.

He didn't look back at him. Liam's gaze concentrated on the small hand inside of his own.

"You're silent because you know I'm right."

Liam being right?

Killian took another sip from the bottle, dismissing his brother's comment again without a word.

"What happened to you fighting for her, little brother?"

That was the last straw though.

Killian felt the tightening of his mouth as he turned his gaze back to his brother.

"I tried to-"

"You walked out on her."

Liam's own blue gaze fell onto his, matching an intensity that had been lacking in his tone of voice. That was so much like Liam. Quiet, yet firm in his convictions.

Killian blinked his eyes at him. "She walked out on me first." The memory of that moment was still painful. Waking up to an empty bed, finding his cell phone next to him, seeing and knowing instantly what she had seen… "She walked out on me."

Maybe he had been right. A simple beer was not enough to counteract the emotions running through him. He took another long drink anyway, because something was better than nothing.

"She walked out."

Killian looked back at his brother, watching the way his hand caressed the smaller one.

"And then you said you were going to fight for her."

"So I tried." He felt the darkening of his eyes, his lashes lowering. "And I failed."

"Failed or gave up?"

That question earned Liam a hard stare.

He looked at him as if he knew the situation. No matter how much he had been someone to lean on and talk to, it didn't mean that he knew the entire situation.

Killian offered a lift on his lip, a slight smile that that didn't go any farther than that.

"It was her. She gave up. She gave up on me, us, and herself." With each passing word, he became even more heated. The words were stirring up feelings that were ongoing since that day. "She felt that it was better to dig herself deeper into a depression than to fight herself out of it. She couldn't let herself be happy. To her, it felt better to fall down rather than let me help her stand up."

It was more than heat radiating from him. There was an anger building up. Anger that had manifested from a loss that he wasn't over just yet.

"Goddammit!" Killian shot up from his seat, feeling restless at the thoughts running through his head. The string of curses that followed came with a need to pace the room.

"Little brother."

Killian shook his head. Not so much at Liam's words. It was the whole situation. The loss of something he had barely grasped before it was torn away from him.

"Killian."

All he wanted was her. Why hadn't he been enough for her to fight for?

"Killian."

"What?" He turned towards Liam then, his eyes wide with wonder.

Liam was silent as he watched him. Blue gaze struck blue gaze. One, far calmer than the other. And maybe that had a calming effect on him.

He stood up, dozing son in his arms. His eyes never left his brother.

He was about to be the reasonable one. Killian knew it. Of course he would be.

Standing right in front of him, baby nestled in one arm, it was a stare that was meant to convey something.

"What?"

"You're done?" Liam's eyebrows pulled together in a frown, still watching him closely. "With Emma? You're done?"

Simple questions, right?

"Because you told me that you loved her." Those eyes darted across his face, trying to read him. "So maybe you don't love her anymore. Maybe giving up on her, when you know what the problem with her is, feels like the right decision. Is that is, little brother?"

Liam… was asking him to finalize his decisions. It wasn't that easy.

"She… didn't say it back." Killian felt his own frown drawing on his face. "She… didn't give any insinuation that she believed me or still wanted me."

"So… you're done?" Liam asked him again.

"Emma has things that she has to work on herself before she can trust in anyone. That includes me."

"So…" This time, he smiled. A small smile, but it was there. "Say you're done."

He was baiting him. And Killian… just… couldn't.

Killian brought a hand up and dragged it slowly across his mouth. There was something… completely wrong in doing what Liam was asking him to do.

"If you weren't holding a baby in your arms, I would shove you out of my way," he muttered. His eyes slipped over to the not quite asleep yet baby. "I love her. You know that."

The smile was just as contained at it had been before.

"I know that," Liam said softly. "The question is what are you going to do about it." A shoulder lifted in the merest hints of a shrug. "Are you going to turn your back on her because she's experiencing personal issues that makes things harder on the both of you? Or are you going to continue to fight for the woman you apparently love and not let her push you away when you both know she needs the help?"

Killian shook his head. "It's something she has to do for herself, Liam. She has to." He slipped past his brother then, the knowledge of Emma's issues almost too much for him.

"And she knows how you feel about that?"

Killian could hear his footsteps as he turned in his direction.

"She knows that you're willing to see her through this if she can handle that?"

It made him shake his head again.

"We didn't get that far. I left her. Just as she had left me." With that, he swung back around to look at Liam.

"Hm, sounds like well thought-out idea from the both of you that have gotten you both exactly where you want to be." He smiled at his own words. "Did you get the sarcasm in there, little brother?"

Killian wasn't able to smile. Not with his world far from being where he needed it to be. But…

His hand came back up to cover his mouth.

"You're right." Which made him cut his eyes on his brother. "Why in the hell are you always right?"

The smile widened then. "Just consider yourself lucky to have me."

And if it wasn't for the smugness all over his face, then maybe it would have been easier to admit it.

Killian shook his head. "I still want her. With all of my damn heart, Liam, I love her. But…"

If Emma couldn't accept that. If she wasn't able to give that love back….

It was a scary and sickening thought. One that made him wonder if it was worth putting himself out there for.

"I think…"

It was Connor's wail, and a fit of arms and legs, that made Liam pause.

"I think Emma's worth it," he murmured as he gently bounced the baby in his arms. "And so are you." He looked back up at Killian then. "If you agree with me, then don't hold on to whatever pride you're hold onto. Do whatever you need to do to fix this."

He made it seem simple. As if it was an easy fix. It was far from easy.

"I really don't know if I should thank you or not," Killian murmured. Because he may not have been over her, but he had been working at it. He had tried to put himself in the mind frame of not having her. But Liam had…

"I'm willing to wait until you figure this out," Liam assured him softly. "I know she makes you happy, Killian." His face turned solemn, grave even, as he watched him. "You deserve to be happy. You both do. And happiness isn't always handed to you. You're going to have to work for it."

Again, he was right.

Damn.

He wasn't ready to give up on Emma. Not just yet. But…

What the hell did that mean for the both of them?

****

It took over six hours to complete, but it was one of his favorite drawings of Emma. Getting her eyes just right had taken some time to master. Drawing her gave him a chance to appreciate every part of her. He still enjoyed every part of her.

Killian brushed his hand over her cheek, instantly remembering the feel of softness of the real thing.

Pulling his hand back, he only gave the drawing one more second of his attention. Clasping the book with one hand, he snap it shut, closing her back off from him. Out of sight…

The long day was just about over. It should have been over. Of course, there was that article that he'd only gotten a little over halfway through. But it would have to wait until the morning. There was no way that he was going to be able to think about upcoming budget cuts and tax incentives. Not this late at night. Not when there was no motivation at all to jumpstart his day at the paper tomorrow.

A hot shower. Bed. That was what his immediate future entailed.

****

**11:07pm**

****

****

**_Killian_ **

**__**

**__**

_**Sleeping? Ignoring me?** _

_****_

_****_

**_If you're ignoring me, then I deserve it._ **

**__**

**__**

**11:19pm**

****

****

_I wasn't ignoring you. Late shower._

__

__

**11:30pm**

****

****

_**Are you still angry with me?** _

_****_

_****_

_No._

__

__

_**Ok** _

_****_

_****_

_You didn't let me explain._

__

__

_**I know.** _

_****_

_****_

_**I wanted to thank you for not letting us get in the way of your friendship with Henry.** _

_****_

_****_

_That's why you texted me? Henry?_

__

__

_**No** _

_****_

_****_

_Why?_

__

__

_**Lots of reasons.** _

_****_

_****_

_Such as?_

__

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_**I needed to know if you were still angry with me. You said you were done with me.** _

_****_

_****_

_**I didn't want you to be done with me, even if I deserve it.** _

_****_

_****_

_**I was in the wrong, and I didn't say that in person.** _

_****_

_****_

_**I'm going through a lot of things and I'm alone.** _

_****_

_****_

_**I miss you.** _

_****_

_****_

_**I needed to know where we were at in my head while I figure some things out.** _

_****_

_****_

_**You're silent.** _

_****_

_****_

_Why didn't you call me instead?_

__

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_**Not ready for that.** _

_****_

_****_

_Ok._

__

__

_Are you ok, Emma?_

__

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_**Trying to be.** _

_****_

_****_

_**I tried to tell you that I was broken.** _

_****_

_****_

Yes, you did.

_**I want to fix that. I've never tried to fix me before.** _

_****_

_****_

_What does that mean?_

__

__

_**It means that I have a lot of work to do.** _

_****_

_****_

_Emma_

__

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_**You said something to me that morning.** _

_****_

_****_

_I said a lot of things that morning._

__

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_**All true?** _

_****_

_****_

_No_

__

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**_Which parts weren't true?_**

_****_

_****_

_You know._

__

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_**Do I?** _

_****_

_****_

_I'm not done with you, Emma._

__

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_Everything else was true._

__

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_Ok_

__

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_**Thanks for not being done with me.** _

_****_

_****_

_**I should go now. I have a lot to do in the morning.** _

_****_

_****_

_**Ok** _

_****_

_****_

_Ok_

__

__

****

Emma placed the phone on the nightstand beside her. It was late, and she did have a busy morning coming up. That meant that she should try to get as much rest as possible.

He…

Killian didn't ignore her. He had talked to her. It hadn't been a guarantee. He didn't have to.

It was everything that she had wanted, everything that she had needed. Not surprising. Wasn't he always?

There was something happening in her chest. A feeling of something foreign. It was not from hurt or sadness. The source…

It was from hope. There was a strong need to hope that her life could be on the mend. He hadn't turned his back on her. He could have turned his back on her. On Henry.

He hadn't. That fact made her…

It was something that she put in the back of her mind. Because tomorrow wasn't about Killian. It was about her. It didn't change the fact that he had put her at ease.

Emma fell back onto a bed that was, again, unfamiliar. Home was still days away. No matter how good home sounded, healthy sounded even better.

The bed wasn't as comfortable as her own, but it hadn't mattered. Somehow, for reasons that she did let herself think about, her body adjusted and found a peaceful comfort. This time, sleep wasn't so hard to come by.


	21. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the final chapter, but there will be an epilogue to come. Thanks so much for reading, commenting, liking, and sending encouragement!

"There are going to be a lot of preliminaries that we will be discussing and going through before any diagnosis can be made."

Just that statement alone started Emma's palms to sweat and her heart to begin beating faster. Why? She didn't know. What little internet research that she had done had pointed to the fact that this was a preliminary step. A genuinely good first step, but preliminary.

Sitting there, trying to feel as comfortable as possible in the thin hospital gown with the paper sheet crinkling loudly with every movement she made on the table, she realized that she was exactly where she needed to be. Wasn't that an important revelation?

"I understand," she assured the doctor with a single nod.

She'd had the same family doctor for years now. She'd also had a good professional relationship with Dr. Emily Goodall. In all those years, in the many different stages that Emma had come into her office, she had never once mentioned or hinted to her condition. Condition?

Sometimes, now more lately than ever, she could admit that it was a condition. Her sadness in life had not been something to dismiss. It was something that was to be handled, and head on.

"We're going to start with a physical," Dr. Goodall continued, her smile small and her eyes looking for understanding. "It's important to try to rule out the possibilities of the source being physical or chemical."

It was important to see if there was a chemical imbalance. Emma understood that as well.

"Is there anything that you wanted to ask before we begin?"

Emma looked at her silently for a moment. There was a lot of questions that she had. There were so many things that she didn't understand, but wanted to desperately.

"Yes," she finally answered slowly.

Her nod was encouraging, the smile assuring.

It was that look that… did something to Emma. It felt as if a dam was ready to burst, the emotions and issues that she'd had for so long had built up to this moment. She'd never faced her own problems. For as long as she had been sad, for as long as she had been depressed, it had felt like such a personal battle that no one else would understand. But she wasn't alone. Her personal battle may have been hers. But it wasn't an uncommon thing that other people didn't live with every day, just like herself.

"If… if it isn't chemical," she began, shaking her head. "Then what? Chemical… makes me think of medications and treatments that last a lifetime. That makes me feel like… there's more to it than… depression."

"Well, first we need to make the right diagnosis," Dr. Goodall said softly. "I know that you came in today because you feel as if depression may be the cause of all your problems. Depression may be the determining factor. There are also many causes for the disease- and yes, it is a disease. As I said before, it may be chemical. Although it may not be."

It had been years. It had all culminated to this moment right here, and that made the moment emotionally draining.

"There are a number of factors that make up the diagnosis. There are also quite a number of different types of depression. Some of those call for medication, which will help balance a person. There are other forms where psychotherapy is a key factor towards healing. Other times, a combination of the two works best for someone. It depends on the individual diagnosis, Emma."

It was still a lot to take in.

"I understand."

Dr. Goodall's eyes began to look Emma over closely. There was a second where she pursed her lips and just stood there quietly.

"How about this?" she finally asked, taking a step back away from the table. "Tell me some of your symptoms, Emma. Some of the issues that plague you."

Emma stared back at her, her eyes blinking. It was an open invitation that she should have been ready for. Yet… that in itself was overwhelming.

"How long have you felt this way?"

How long? So long.

"It's not an everyday occurrence," she started softly. "Some days are worse than others. Some periods of life- some subjects- are more difficult. But… there comes this…" the deep breath was sudden and surprising, "sadness that comes over me that is hard to get over. Some days it hard to get out of bed. Some nights… it's just easier to curl up in the bed and cry."

Emma took in another big deep breath. She felt the tears already gathering in her eyes.

"I have good periods, I really do. It's just that sometimes… I really feel like… this means nothing." She felt the way her body caved in on its own volition. Sadness was such a familiar feeling that, even though she wasn't currently in a bad state, she could still recall the ache. "I feel like… I'm not good enough for anyone or anything. No matter what I do, it won't be good enough. I feel like I'm not good enough. And what does that mean?"

Admitting it out loud was…

"Sometimes… I wonder… what do I matter." Emma felt the tilt of her head as her mind wandered deeper into her private thoughts. "Who, in all honesty, do I affect in any way that I would be missed if,,, I wasn't here. Sometimes… the sadness is that deep that I wish that it was no one at all. Because sometimes it's easier to stay in that bubble all alone."

Emma paused, her eyes blinking on the floor beneath her. She had said a lot. She wasn't expecting to say a lot. Not here. Not initially.

"I'm not…" She shook her head quickly as she looked back at the doctor. "I'm not… I've never thought about… that. I didn't mean it like that."

Dr. Goodall's mouth was almost a straight line, but there was at least care evident in her eyes.

"I understand, Emma."

And Emma, for the first time in… was it forever? She felt as if someone did understand. It was also an understanding that didn't come with judgment.

She shook her head again. "It's not always like that. The feeling comes in spurts. Usually triggered by something. It started with relationships. Some relationships have been harder to get over than others. But it always goes back to that feeling of me not being good enough. It's like, 'of course something bad happened, because I don't deserve happiness.' When it's that bad, it's really bad. And that's the feeling that I don't want to feel again. Deep down, really deep down, I have finally come to realize that it's not true. That the only reason I must feel this way is because there's something wrong with me. The depression that can hold on so tight to me is more than normal."

There was something about the way that she looked at her. It was as if there was a real understanding between the two women. An understanding that Emma had never known in all her life in terms of the sadness. Starting to get things out had been a soothing factor, but actually seeing this comprehension was something altogether different. The calming effect almost gave her the opposite feeling, because… how was this even possible?

"Emma." The empathetic look in her eyes looked sincere. "You've taken the first step in getting your life back under control." This time, there was a small smile on her lips. "Many people are unable to do that much in their entire lifetime. I want you to know that I am here to help you. We will do everything we can to make the correct diagnosis and get you on your way to feeling better. Okay?"

It had felt like a lifetime, the sadness and the hurt. To actually believe that, maybe, it could all change for the better?

Emma took in another breath and nodded her head.

"Okay, Dr. Goodall," she told her softly. "It sounds like the best news I've heard in a long time."

****

Emma stared down at the appointment card. Seven days. Seven days seemed like a very long time to wait. It wouldn't be until next Wednesday before she would be able to see or talk to the psychotherapy.

She flipped the card over and over between her fingers. A simple office card with the usual information on it. It was more than just a little card that read Dr. Archibald Hopper. It was… a lifeline. It was a chance to get everything right. It had been a very long time since everything was truly all right.

Leaving the doctor's office, there was already a monumental amount of weight that had been lifted off her chest. It was almost enough encouragement to step out from her shadow. If she went home now… If she didn't hide herself away in a hotel room for the rest of the week and had instead gone home to Henry and her parents…

There was a part of her that saw how that could be possible. There was another part of her that was eager to remember that this was time she was taking for her. She needed that time just for her.

Emma's eyes roamed over the front of the card again, her gaze lingering on each and every word carefully.

There were so many possibilities of just what path her life was about to travel on. If her appointment with Goodall had been any indicator of what was to come…

It was with those thoughts, and maybe with the tiniest of smiles, Emma began to move.

Pressing her hand against the glass door, she looked out a bright morning that was ready to receive her. When had she ever been one to look at life so philosophically? Hmm…

She liked feeling the coolness of the glass touching her palm. She liked feeling the ease of pain slipping away, even if it was only because she was on a momentary emotional high.

Walking out and encountering a still early day, Emma couldn't help the one thought that came to mind. Walking out...

There had been many times- too many times- when a door opening and a person walking out, her or someone else, had been indicative to pain. An indicator of something that had been wrong with her or with her life…

She could still hear the door clicking closed as Neal walked out of the apartment for the last time. She remembered how desolate and saddened she'd been for herself.

How many times had she ran away from an issue to try to find comfort somewhere else? Too many times. The last time that had happened… There had been retaliation for the last time she had walked out on someone. Killian… he repaid her by doing the same.

The cool air, bordering on chilly, hit her face. It felt… really good. It felt like… weirdly enough, like she could really feel it. She was feeling something.

No one would understand that, she mused with another small smile. Emma ducked her head down, letting her fingers ruffle through her hair and shaking it over her shoulders.

All that mattered, at least for now, was that she understood.

Taking time for herself.

Emma wasn't used to that. She wasn't used to putting herself first. Herself. That didn't mean her obligations in life. That didn't mean family obligations or work obligations. Emma had always had a way of putting things and responsibilities above herself. For the first time in… a long time, her days were spent on her own well-being. And it felt…

It wasn't always easy or uplifting. There were parts of herself that she had to examine. They were the good and the bad. They were happy and the sad. Everything that made up who she was had a significant impact on how she envisioned herself and how she lived her life.

There had been times within those long days that she continued to debate on going back home. Yet, she never did. The hard work was just beginning. She was far from giving up.

She thought about them often. This was about her, but they were a part of her as well.

Emma thought about him sometimes. She didn't call him. She didn't text him. She thought about him.

Hm…

****

He hadn't asked for the key back. He hadn't demanded that she leave it or to never use it again.

Emma held the ring by that single key in her hand. There was only a second of apprehension. Just a second, because what she was doing was the one and only thing that she had wanted to do since she'd found herself alone in that hotel room for the last time.

She pushed the key into the keyhole and turned the lock. The sound of it slipping open seemed to be magnified in her ears. It was never lost on her that her father's old truck was parked in the driveway next to Killian's when she found herself slipping towards the back of the house to park. It wasn't lost on her that she was only some yards away from her parents and her son, who were most likely in bed for the night, while they were in her apartment. It also wasn't lost on her that she was exactly where she wanted to be. Or, at least, she was close.

Emma closed the door and locked it again with as much quietness as she had strived for when opening it.

His apartment…

She had always been impressed by it. Maybe, at one point, even intimidated. They were stark contrasts, weren't they?

Leaning against the door, she took in the scent. It was him. A scent that she had missed. She let her eyes fall over the artwork on the wall. Art that he had created himself. It was usually with a gentle hand. She remembered those hands.

What if he didn't want her here?

The thought came to her mind so suddenly that it scared her. What if she was overstepping a line?

He said he wasn't angry with her anymore. He also said that… he wasn't done with her. She didn't want to be done with him either.

Emma took in a deep and steadying breath as she pushed herself away from the door. He wouldn't not want her here. It had only been her need to see things negatively that made her even think of the notion.

She walked the length of the room, finding herself in the well put-together living room. It was so orderly. It was such a Killian trait, this organization. Where her life had been disheveled by the turn of events, it seemed as if he had not been bothered by any of it.

That… was her looking down at herself again. The point was that she was conscious of that fact. It was something that she could take apart and dissect. Not right at this moment, but she could. She would ask herself, later, why she made prejudgments based on the differences between them. She would. Just not right now.

Besides that of her footsteps, the apartment was completely silent. That only magnified the sound of her beating heart. It had been on impulse, coming here so late at night. She didn't call him. She didn't ask. She had just done it. And now…

Emma took bigger steps, each stride growing. She had missed him. More than she ever knew that she could miss a man. There were others facts that she had never crossed her mind before him. She wanted, someday, to be able to explore all of those nuances about life that she had before casted away. And she wanted to do that with him.

The hallway seemed both a mile long and too short at the same time. There was still time to turn around. She could still back away and not go through that bedroom door.

No. The calming of her heartbeat and the sudden small smile on her face said that she couldn't turn around. Wasn't she done with running?

Yes, she was.

****

_Her lips were soft. Her mouth tasted sweet. Like always. He loved the way her mouth opened over his. Giving. She was always giving in that way. This time was no different._

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_Killian let his fingers slip through the fallen strands of blonde hair that laid against her cheek. Silky, as always. He brought his other hand to caress the softness of her other cheek. So soft._

__

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_Her moan was barely audible to his ears. It still had a way of affecting him, making the need to pull her closer to him grow._

__

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_"Killian."_

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_His fingers pushed through her hair, pressing through the thickness and pulling her closer into him._

__

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_Her chest pressed into his, the weight of her body and the feel of her lips were a combination that he'd missed._

__

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_"Emma."_

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_The feel of her own hand, soft and warm, running up the column of his neck and over his cheek…_

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_The feel of that silky hair lightly brushing over his bare chest…_

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_It felt…_

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_Why did it feel real?_

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Killian opened his eyes.

Lips. Hands. Hair.

His mind was playing tricks on him. He'd never known himself to have visions. Hallucinations. A dream to come true. But…

She pulled back, her green eyes opening and watching him.

"Hi."

****

There was a quiet moment. His eyes darted across her face, the sleep quickly disappearing. Her eyes on him, wondering what was behind that gaze.

Had she made a mistake? Coming here, had she made a mistake?

Slowly, Killian raised onto one elbow, his eyes never leaving her face.

"Is this…" He shook his head. "I'm dreaming."

There was something in his eyes. It was something in the way he looked at her. Even if it seemed impossible, even if he believed it could only be a dream, there was something about the way that he looked at her that made her know…

It hadn't been a mistake.

"You're not dreaming," she whispered softly.

"What are you..."

The thought wasn't finished. Killian's hand came up to her cheek instead, pulling himself up at the same time.

If she wasn't a dream, then neither was he.

Emma's eyes closed again at the feel of his skin against her own. She heard the give of the bed as he moved.

His lips didn't reach for hers. The scratchiness of his beard felt amazing against the smoothness of her cheek. Turning her head just slightly, she encouraged the act. She lifted her hand up to his own cheek, smoothing over it, bringing him all the closer.

That feeling was enough. Until it wasn't.

Her hands slid from his cheeks, his ears, brushed lightly over his neck, and found the back of his head. Her fingers dug into that clump of hair at the nape of his neck.

His sudden harsh intake of breath could be felt against her skin.

"Emma."

His fingers dug into her own hair, yanking her head back gently.

Emma blinked her eyes open to find his mouth swooping down over hers.

Her moan was quiet. Her mouth opened for his, loving the forcefulness of his kiss and his hands planted in her hair.

His was shirtless. His bare shoulders were tempting. Her fingers danced their way down his neck and glided over his shoulders. Silk over steel, that was right.

The kiss had been from a man who was… starving. Now…

Killian's kiss slowed. Opened mouths became barely that. Holding her head prisoner in his hands, his lips enveloped her bottom lips. Sucking. Biting. A gentle sweep of his tongue. Sucking again.

Teasing.

Emma pulled back from his embrace.

Her eyes found his again. He was watching her with wondrous and mysterious eyes. But he smiled. A brief little smile that spoke volumes.

Her own smile turned into a small laugh.

"You're…"

Killian pulled himself up, finally sitting up completely. His eyes left hers. His hands were slow and careful as they moved back to touch her. Fingertips lightly reaching her neck.

Skin on skin. Over skin. Against skin. Please.

With a small laugh of his own, the three buttons at the top of her sweater became undone. One at a time. Just a little more of herself being revealed to him.

Concentrating on the task at hand, his eyes traveled the path of his fingers as they opened her shirt. Fingers to collarbone… to shoulder. Killian stretched the material of the sweater down over her shoulder. His mouth followed. Leaning forward, he dropped his open mouth on her bare skin.

Shoulder. Neck. Collarbone. Chest.

Emma shuddered at the feel of those lips.

"Not enough."

His fingers smoothed over the hem of the sweater before disappearing underneath. They tickled over her flat stomach, making the flutter from way down deep grown even more.

His mouth was on the move. Back up. A whisper of lips and a nip of teeth at her neck.

Emma threw her head back and sighed. So good. But he was right. Not enough.

Killian pulled back. His fingers grabbed again at the shirt. Up. Up

She helped. Raising her arms above her head, the need for him to undress her was growing strong.

Emma heard rather than saw the sweater hit the floor beside them.

Just a moment. Their eyes locked again. Just a moment…

Skin to skin. Too tempting.

He moved first, his head once again dipping down.

"Killian." It was a whimper of need. Want.

The feel of his lips across the top of her breast felt good, but…

Emma grabbed a fistful of hair from the top of his head. She pulled… up. Her lips already parted in anticipation of his kiss.

A slow kiss. An exploratory kiss that called for heads to angle and tongues to dip just so inside.

His arm pulled across her back, hugging her body against his. He kicked at the sheets, his legs seemingly impatient as they wildly pushed the covering away.

"Emma."

Her hands closed over his cheeks, kissing his lips softly. She went willingly as he pressed his back into the mattress.

Skin to skin.

His hand pressed into her spine, climbing from the small of her back and traveling upwards. Until…

The confines of the bra disappeared as soon as he unclasped the hooks.

Emma paused to smile against him mouth. The feel of his body underneath hers…

Her nosed bumped against his, only making her smile grow. It turned into a nuzzle of her nose against his cheek, an amazing feeling.

"I…"

Killian's hold on her tightened. Just as sudden as he'd brought them down to the mattress, so was the flip.

She found herself on her back with him above her. There hadn't been any time to pause. He helped her out of the bra and threw it aside just as easily as the sweater.

Straddling her hips, he offered her a smile. Then he was gone. His face disappeared as he moved on to her body again.

It was a soft kiss over her breast. And then…

Emma gasped at the feel of his mouth closing over her nipple. Her eyes squeezed shut as she bucked up her hips. The need to feel him against her…

His hands gripped tight on either side of her hips. He was an equal opportunist. His mouth slid over one nipple to the other, giving equal and avid attention to each.

"Kill-"

His hands were moving. Traveling along the waistband of her pants, they met at the button.

Slow down.

She found her hands grabbing at his head again, another fistful of hair in both. She pulled him away, a mere inch or so from her skin.

Not fair.

With his mouth away from her, his hands moved even quicker. Seconds. It had only taken seconds for his hands to find their way inside her panties.

Taking in deep breaths, Emma lifted her hip from off of the bed. It wasn't too much, the feel of all of him. It was enough.

His body bent down over hers. His hands cupped her hips, bringing her into him as he laid his cheek against her stomach.

The simple act…

Emma's hands roamed over his back, fingers spread wide so that she could feel as much of his as possible. Just a moment longer, like this…

With his cheek lying against her stomach, she only felt the side of his mouth open, placing a half-kiss right there.

She found her own self kicking. Pushing her foot against the leg of her pants, she lifted what she could of him and her body.

"My pants."

He turned his head, placing a full press of his lips under her bellybutton. His hands, inside of both pants and panties, went back to the previous job of helping rid herself of the confining clothes.

Killian sat up on his heels, his eyes trained on the job. Pants and panties rolled down. Over hips. Thighs.

"Emma."

Knees.

She felt her body quaking.

Calves. Ankles.

Killian.

Feet. Passed toes.

Naked. Completely naked.

He looked at her. What was it in his eyes? Not only lust. Not only desire.

"Killian?" Emma scooted up higher on the bed with her elbows, slipping herself from underneath him.

Pensive. Pursed lips told her that he was thinking. He sat there on his knees, watching her.

Emma moved carefully up into a sitting position. Naked, with his eyes on her, she watched him just as closely.

Killian took in a deep breath.

"You're here."

It was a statement. Not a question. Emma nodded as she folded her legs underneath her, matching his position.

"I'm here," she whispered.

It was the unasked question… Why? That's what he wanted to know.

Maybe the answer wasn't so easily seen. It should have been. She felt like it was radiating from her.

Emma moved, pushing herself up on her knees in front of him. Reaching her arms out towards him, she was slow to wrap herself around him. Her arms wrapped around his neck, pulling herself even closer.

"I love you," she whispered softly, her eyes only on his. "I'm in love with you. Utterly and completely in love with you."

"Emma." His eyes crossed the span of her face. Tilting his head just slightly, he ran a single finger along her cheek. "Say it again." This time, his eyes found hers again.

She smiled, an easy smile.

"I love you, Killian."

He bit down on his lip, his head giving a single nod.

"I love you, too, Emma."

"Flaws and all?"

"Every single damned thing about you."

His moved then, his lips reaching hers.

His arm looped around her waist, holding there loosely. His hand slipped down the small of her back, moving to cup her bare bottom. Slowly, he raised himself up on his knees, matching her position.

Those arms around his neck fell across his shoulders. Her fingertips danced over his chest, loving the feel of it against her own skin.

She could feel the smile on his lips. Quick kisses. Light caresses of lips against lips.

His hand moved up to capture hers. Pressing it against his chest, hand and hand fell down his side. Stopping at his hip, he left her hand there.

The smile grew before nibbling at that bottom lip again.

Emma brought her other hand down to meet the other. Slipping underneath the waistband of his underwear, she helped return the favor of undressing.

One knee lifted, slipping out of the boxers. Then the other.

Forehead dropped down to forehead. Killian rested his hands high up on her arms, holding there.

Her smile felt permanent. With eyes lightly closed, Emma lifted her mouth back up to his. She pressed her hands against his hips, guiding him back down to sit on the bed.

When she opened her eyes to look at him, his smile made her whole body tingle. Anticipation. Love. So much more.

"I love you, Emma." His hand found her hip.

She didn't need the guidance as she lifted a leg to straddle him, but she took the help.

Her hands found his cheeks again.  
"I love you, too."

She could feel him, underneath her. She could feel the way he positioned himself underneath her as his mouth found hers again. And she moved, too. Opening herself to him, for him, for them.

The moan escaped his lips quietly as…

She slipped over him, her body sinking down, all the way down.

"Emma?"

Killian gripped her at her hips firmly as all the breath left his body. His eyes closed, only to open again and search out her face.

"I love you."

He felt absolutely perfect inside her. Her hips grinded slowly into him, before pulling back again.

"I love you, too."

Her hands moved up into his hair. Her fingers found that spot at the nape of his neck. When he head fell back, eyes closed and sigh on his lips, she kissed him. Sweet. Soft.

His hold on her tightened. His hands petted. Encouraged. Promised.

"Emma, don't stop." His eyes opened back on her again. "Don't ever stop."

Encouragement turned into urging. Hands and hips moved with her, driving and spurring her on with exquisitely slow movements.

"Never," she breathed out quietly. "I'll never stop."

She knew what they were both promising…

"I'm going to hold you to that, love," Killian murmured.

An arm wrapped once again around her waist. Once again, he was switching positions.

This time, the weight of his body never left hers. Her hands came to grip at his waist, holding on tight as he thrust deeper and deeper inside of her.

"Never stop."

"Never, love."

"Killian."

"I love you."

"I love you."

Forever? That sounded amazing…

**** 

He saw her running, and he hated it. He saw the pain and the self-loathing coming in and destroying the moment they were having. Because she was still Emma. She was still the woman who had walked out him. She was still the woman who had cut him so deeply that he had walked away from her. It was in that same moment that he realized that it wasn't all about him. It was about her. It was going to be her decision to get well or stay with those walls up high and all by herself.

If she chose to stay hidden… If she chose to escape back into herself after he opened himself up to her…

No woman had ever had that effect on him. She did. She always would.

"You came back early," Killian noted, breaking the silence between them. She had said… But what did that matter if she wasn't capable on all levels. What if he lost her again?

Emma in his arms. Sometimes it felt like he was still dreaming. He'd stayed quiet, running a hand down from hip to knee. If he spoke, would she leave? She said that she loved him. She told him to never stop. But when they weren't in the middle of an incredibly passionate lovemaking session, would all that change?

With her back against his chest, he felt the raise of her shoulder.

"I've been back."

Been?

She looked over her shoulder, her eyes trying to find his under long lashes.

"I got back to Boston Wednesday," she murmured softly. Quietly, she turned back around, fitting herself against his body.

Wednesday?

"Where have you been then?" Killian asked, frowning into her shoulder.

"I… rented a hotel room," she answered. "I had a lot of things to do and figure out."

Lips pressed to her shoulder blade, his mind began to wander at that bit of news.

"Did your parents know?" he asked. Was it only him that she'd kept the secret from? "Henry?"

Emma shook her head. "I didn't tell anyone. Not my parents. Not Henry." She turned her head again, "They still believe that I am in New York."

He nodded, but he didn't know why. Just in acknowledgement of her words. They thought the same thing that he was led to believe.

"Wait a second." Realization dawned on him at the mentioning of her family. "Emma?"

For a second, she laid there contently. Then… she turned around in his arms, her eyes open and curious as she looked at him.

"What?"

Maybe it was the slight worry mixed in with his frown. Emma smiled, her eyes shifting off to the side.

"I parked in the back," she told him softly. "They don't know that I'm here. They won't see my car."

It was exactly what he was thinking.

"They… don't know about us," Killian said slowly. "Or…" Her previous declaration of love wasn't leaving him without apprehension. There was still a chance… "They didn't know about our past."

Emma bit down on her lip, a shy smile still shining through.

"My mom only had good things to say about you when I spoke to her," she assured him.

"And Dave?" Killian's eyes widened, waiting for a response on that. "I could not actually tell if there was something amiss he felt about me."

"I think…" Emma's hand trailed through the chest hair, making a path down his stomach. Her eyes followed "They were beginning to think things. And Mom reacted the way Mom reacts. And Dad reacted the way Dad reacts." She lifted her eyes back to him. "Don't worry about them. I was assured by all that they really like you, and that you are an amazing man."

"And that's… something that… should matter to me?" Killian asked her carefully. "Being on your parents' good side is a good thing because…"

He wanted her to confirm it. Even when he wasn't sure where her state of mind was at, he wanted her to say it. It had to come from her, clear and sober, that she was back in his arms to stay. He wanted… everything. All of her.

"Because… you make their daughter very happy," she finally finished for him.

He felt the smile reach his heart, tugging on him firmly and filling him almost to bursting. His arm wrapped itself around her waist, pulling her all the closer to him.

"I-"

"Killian?"

His name left her mouth softly.

A nervousness crept back into his body so quickly. He'd let his guard down the merest fraction, had let only a few words turn his heart solely into hers. For that, he would have to pay.

Her hand fell onto his arm and she held on tight. The next words… were sure to have more meaning that what she'd already said.

Killian offered her a smile, his eyes locking on hers while making sure that he didn't wear his heart on his sleeve.

"Yes, love?" It wasn't broken. It was a normal tone. Just as it had to be.

Emma's eyes did roam. Her eyes crossed over his face, his shoulder, and finally back again.

"I need to be honest with you. About a lot of things."

It wasn't going to matter. That she loved him or that he loved her, was it?

"Yes?" One word. One syllable. Because that made feelings easier to disguise.

Emma's hand tightened even more. The nervousness that was in her was just as palpable.

Why would she come here and profess her love to him if she was only going to turn right back around?

"The reason I told everyone- and it was everyone- that I was in New York on business these last few days was because I had a lot of things to figure out." That hand loosened over him just slightly. "I came back originally as planned. Wednesday."

"Which was more than three days ago," Killian filled in. But it didn't take the place of any missing pieces.

"Killian?" And her hand moved upwards. Her eyes follow the trek of her fingers as they went to touch his cheek.

"What have you been doing, Emma?"

He didn't want her out of his bed. What he wanted was her wholeheartedly and completely.

She still wasn't looking at him though. Not in his eyes. Not where it mattered most.

"I went to see my doctor," she finally whispered. "I went to talk to someone about me." She looked up at him then, her eyes cautious and yet open at the same time. "For me."

Watching her, seeing the expectation on her face but not knowing what it was for, he finally shook his head.

"What do you mean, Emma?" he asked quietly. He reached for the hand that was laying between them on the bed. He held her fingers tight. And he waited.

"Killian."

It was only because she needed to pause. He didn't interrupt her. He gave her time.

"I'm… I've been… depressed," she finally got out. It was barely a whisper as he looked at her. Those eyes. They rested on him, trying to read him.

"Emma." He gripped her hand even firmer. "I know that you were battling something. I knew that you struggled with things in your life and about you. I know that's why you called yourself damaged."

Her head tilted back just slightly. Quiet, for another moment.

"I've been like that for a long time," she confessed. "I didn't realize how bad it was. I never realized that it wasn't something I didn't have to live with. I figured that…" Her eyes blinked at him, as if she was thinking and processing at the same time. "It was a part of me. Feeling the way I did about myself and life was set in stone."

Killian watched her closely. He listened to each word, not missing one. It was the meaning that was significant…

All in past tense. So what did that mean?

"And now?" It came out gruffer than he'd expected, but the question remained.

Emma let her hand smooth down his cheek and back over his neck. Maybe she was thinking about how to answer that.

"And now… I don't think that's true," she told him. Emma shook her head, sighing while her hand fell over his shoulder. "I don't think that I have to be stuck living a life that isn't fulfilling. Or live a life where I'm never satisfied with myself or others. Killian?" She met his gaze. This time it was strong. "I have depression. I suffer from depression. And it's something that I need to work on. For me."

She'd said for her, but he felt a weight lifting from his own chest. She had admitted to… something in a very courageous way.

"I want to get help for… my illness," she told him softly. This time she smiled. "It's an illness. I don't know why I'm afflicted with it, but I am. Maybe one day I will know. It won't be tomorrow. Or the next day. But I will find out how to cope with it. Not by myself, but with doctors."

"So… when you're were away…"

"I saw my doctor," she told him quietly, tilting her head again. "I started my process of trying to figure this out. I go see a psychotherapist next week. And, hopefully, I will soon be diagnosed with…"

"Diagnosed with depression," Killian murmured, nodding his head.

"It's not that simple. It's not that cookie-cutter." Emma lifted her shoulder in a shrug. "I've been doing a little research. I don't know what my final diagnosis will be. There are… a couple possibilities I think I'm looking at. I… don't know. But, in all honesty, I'm hoping that therapy is what my doctors see as the best outlet for getting better. Otherwise…" She shook her head. "It could be actual medication. And for some reason, that sounds a little harsher to me. It seems less in my control and more of a problem that way. So… I'm hoping… for therapy." Emma nodded that time. Her eyes connected with his.

What was she thinking? Did she think that would scare him off?

Killian's lip trembled into a smile.

"You're really doing this." There was a bit of awe in his voice. There was a sense of pride for the woman who was sharing his bed.

"I'm really doing this," she agreed.

For some reason… There was more. He knew that there was something more. Something that would impact… him? Them?

"What else, Emma?"

She looked… not quite sad. She looked as if, yes, there was more. And this was the part she was more worried about sharing.

"I… I love you… Killian." Her eyebrows raised slightly while she watched him. "I really do."

He smiled, although he knew… Something…

He wanted to dip his mouth down over hers ad kiss her, but he didn't.

"I love you, too, Emma."

"I…" There was no smile. Instead, there was a fierceness that read as her being strong. He liked strong Emma. He loved fierce Emma. Always had. Always would.

"I want to be with you," she continued.

There was a but coming…

"But…"

There it was, and he felt it in his heart.

"I need to put me first," she whispered, still looking right into his eyes. "I need to work on me and get me to a point in my life where second-guessing every choice and every happenstance as if it's my fault. I need to be in a place where I'm actually good and healthy, and that's not regarding anyone other than myself."

Killian felt the slack of his mouth. He felt the instant way it the inside of his mouth began to dry.

"You don't…"

Why had she come here… if she couldn't stay? Why?

"I can't."

She couldn't. That was the answer she gave him.

Emma didn't retreat. She stayed right there, one hand on his chest and the other still secure in his own hand.

He wanted to push away. Not really. He was supposed to though.

"You can't." The smile was nothing but an involuntary lift of his lip. "Then…"

"I love you, Killian."

Saying it didn't change everything else. She wouldn't pull away, but he felt a strong need to.

"And that means what… for us… if you can't?"

Emma licked at her bottom lip before scraping her teeth over it.

"I've never felt like this before." She shook her head. "I know it's not about the sadness. I know that it's real."

"But…"

"If I needed time?" This time… it was her hand closing around his, her eyes looking at him imploringly. "If… I admit to you that… I want to work on me, but it doesn't change the fact that I love you and want you?"

Was she… He thought that… she was… She was asking him to give her time.

"Killian, if I said to you that I want to be with you as soon as I know it's right for the both of us…"

"You want me to wait on you?" he asked. Stunned was one was to describe.

Emma took in a deep breath, holding it as her eyes never left his.

"Yes. That is why I am here. I want to know if you could ever love me enough to do that for me."

Under his hand, he felt the moisture that was beginning to collect in her palm. A nervous Emma. The woman who loved him, but wanted to love herself just as much.

It wasn't that she had given a specific time frame. She had just thrown a request out there to him. And… wasn't there only one answer to give.

"Emma?"

Killian pushed himself towards the edge of the bed. He put space between them that hadn't been there since she had walked unannounced into his apartment and into his bed.

"Yeah?" she asked, her eyes even wider still.

He felt the sudden purse of his lips. He held her gaze. He watched her. For signs of belief. Disbelief. Gumption. Nerve.

"What in the hell do you think?"


	22. Epilogue (Part 1)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, everyone! This, as you may have noticed, is part 1 of a 2-part epilogue. There was just more of this story to tell than I'd anticipated. Please, enjoy! And, as always, comments are greatly appreciated!

**_One year later... ** __**_**

"There was one more thing that I did want to discuss with you."

There wasn't tension in her from bringing it up. Well, maybe just a little. It was more about the curiosity as to what Archie would say. What he would think about where she was in her life.

"Please, Emma." His smile was easy. She liked his smile. "I have a feeling that this is something that you've been wanting to get off of your chest for a while now."

It made her gnaw at her bottom lip. She wasn't sure how he had come to that conclusion, but she couldn't lie and say that it wasn't the truth.

"It's been a year," Emma started, looking right at him from her seat on the couch. "I've been diagnosed for nearly that entire time."

"And you've made amazing progress in coping with your depression," Archie said in agreement. The casual way in which he sat in the chair across from her only spoke to that.

She nodded her head slowly, thinking back on a long year that had meant almost everything to her well-being.

The diagnosis had been shocking to her, in some ways. Only because giving it a name- linking those feelings and ways of handling those feelings into a singular component after all those years- made it more than just real. It made it manageable. Archie was right: the progress had been truly amazing…

"I've been thinking," Emma started softly.

It was both a thought of him and what part he'd played in her life in that last year that came to mind right then.

"But I also wanted to know what you would think about it as well."

"What is it that's on your mind, Emma?"

Archie asked the question quietly. As if urging her on, to get her current issue out in the open.

The year flashed quickly by in her mind. She saw an encouraging smile. She saw the attentive eyes and the carefree way in which he laughed. She saw a man who had kept his promise to her, without even realizing what that promise was going to actually entail. He'd done it so willingly. Honestly. Truthfully.

"I'm not cured." Emma looked back at Archie, just then realizing how she had let those drifting thoughts take her away. "I am far from seeing my last day of psychotherapy. I came in with a fear of having to be medicated to keep my problems under control. Now, I know it's just one more tool that helps at certain times in my life. It's nothing to be ashamed of."

"That's the payoff to the hard work of a woman who wants to be in control of her life, Emma," Archie commented easily. There was a smile on his face, small but full of pride. "So… what is it that you've been thinking about that has caused you to reflect on all of these wonderful aspects about who you are now?"

Emma lifted her chin the merest fraction. She appreciated the kind words. She would appreciate his agreement with her own thinking even more.

"I feel like I'm ready." She tilted her head just so, looking at the man who sat across from her. "To not do this on my own anymore."

The corner of Archie's lip lifted just a tiny bit more.

"This is about Killian."

Oh, how she loved her perceptive psychotherapist!

"It's about Killian," she agreed. "More about me though." Her eyes roamed the man's reaction to that.

Maybe he liked her ownership of the new topic. There was a bit of a change in him. The way he sat up taller. The way he watched Emma.

"I think I'm ready, Archie," she finally shared with him. In doing so, she felt a lightening of her heart. A feeling of being free and in control washed over her. "I'm ready to dive into handling my issues with my illness while still opening myself up to Killian one hundred percent."

He smiled. It was a genuine smile that Emma appreciated.

"What was it that made you come to that conclusion, Emma?"

It wasn't meant to make her doubt herself. It was a question that was asked of her so that she could verbally articulate where her head was at.

Emma thought on that. It had been a year. A year had passed since she had put herself on this path.

"For more than half of this past year, I focused solely on myself," Emma told him softly. "I put everything that wasn't vital in my life on the backburner. Even my job and my son were able to understand my need to do this for me. And I was really grateful for having that understanding from them. A year where I had the chance to look at myself and listen to professionals who understood me and wanted to help me. That was a good chunk of this year."

She paused, giving herself time to gather her thoughts and to figure out how she wanted to express them.

"Killian wasn't someone that you considered vital?"

Archie's statement drew her focus on him immediately.

"Killian couldn't be vital at that point," she said with a shake of her head. "If he was vital, then my focus would have been different. This time has been about healing me. Nothing else."

"So he wasn't vital," Archie said. "Yet there was still a relationship between the two of you."

"A relationship?"

"You continued to live across the hall from him," he pointed out. "You felt like staying in that environment was healthy."

"Which you agreed with at the time," Emma reminded him. "I didn't want to leave. Henry deserved to stay there. I didn't want to lose everything that I had gained by moving there."

"Which… included Killian," Archie said slowly.

Well…

"He was willing to give me everything that I needed," Emma said softly. "And I always hoped that this day would come. The day that I could love myself, understand myself, and love him as well."

"And as you sit here today, you believe that those are all resolved issues?" Archie asked with a shrug of his shoulder.

"I think I'm in a good place with me," she said again. "I feel like it's okay to move forward with life in its entirety. I feel like I have a grasp on things, so I don't need to have aspects of my life put on hold."

Archie was slow to nod. His face had a pensive expression. His thoughts…

"What has your relationship been like in this year?" he asked quietly.

What had…

"It… could have been… odd." Their situation. Yes, it could have been odd. "We live across the hall from one another. We had a relationship prior to this. I asked him to give me time to do these things for myself, and he agreed."

"Which entailed what exactly?" The tilt of his head was small. So was the inquiring smile.

"Do you mean if he's been waiting on me to get myself together while being completely loyal?"

"The particulars of your understanding have the potential to affect either one of you," he told her. "Although you have put yourself first throughout, Emma, you made that request of him to give you time. It's been an entire year. I am curious as to what your arrangements were and how you handle them from this point going forward."

"Our interactions with one another have been limited." Emma couldn't help but smile at that fact. Limited. "But they haven't been nonexistent. That would have been near impossible in our situation. I toyed with the idea of moving on more than one occasion. It was a hard decision because, in the middle of this, I still wanted to do right by Henry. Moving again would have been another instance where I couldn't offer him stability. Killian was a part of that stability, even from across the hall. So… I didn't move. Killian didn't want us to move either."

Emma shook her head, drifting into thoughts of him. Shy smiles and looks of understanding. The occasional look in his eyes that she was well aware of. A look of hunger that he tampered well.

"We talked more as the year went on. In the beginning, it was less frequent. That was because I was trying to get an understanding and a balance in my life. We eventually communicated through text messages, phone calls. Visits?" She shook her head. "There were never many visits. Sometimes. Not many. It was always done with respectful intent. He never pushed. Never prodded." It made her shake her head again. "I don't know how difficult it was for him, but… I believed him when he said… that he would wait on me."

Trust. Killian had earned her trust. It never wavered.

"It's been a year." That was something to find awe in. "He's been waiting that entire time for me. And it didn't come by way of help of another woman. It was me. I was enough."

Emma never let herself think about it in those terms. Putting everything together, voicing it all aloud, did something to her heart.

"Emma?"

Archie's voice had the same effect as earlier.

Looking at him, and paying attention this time, she saw the smile on his face.

"I think you've come up with your answer, Emma." Leaning back in his seat, his smile continued to grow. "I think that you're more than ready to add this relationship back into your life. You're going to come into this relationship with a knowledge and understanding of all the hard work you've put into yourself. You've both made commitments that you were both able to keep. And, also importantly, even though this is a relationship that it is obvious to see that you want, you also now know what it takes to make it a success."

"You think…" He was actually saying what she had hoped that he would say? "You really think that I can have a relationship with Killian right now in my life?"

Archie gave a single nod. "I believe that having another positive person in your life, who was always positive in your life, would be a fine addition. The reason you excluded him was only because you knew that it wasn't the right time to try to establish a relationship when you needed to work on yourself. From the moment that you decided to seek out medical attention, Emma, you've been very aware and capable in your life. It's one of the reasons why I trust you when you say that you know that you are ready."

It made her think. It made her wonder… if she truly was capable of knowing such things about herself. And the more she thought on it…

Emma smiled.

"Thank you, Archie."

He shook his head. "Emma, this is all you."

It had been only a thought for so long. Now…

She saw a life that had endless possibilities. But no matter what the ending would be, she had power in making it one that she deserved and one that was happy.

****

**5:00pm**

****

****

**_Hey_ **

**__**

**__**

_Hi Emma. What can I do for you?_

__

__

**_I'm running late from work. Would you check up on Henry and make sure he's getting everything he needs to done?_ **

**__**

**__**

_Not a problem, love._

__

__

**_Thanks, Killian._ **

**_  
_ **

**6:26pm**

****

****

**_He said something about the possibility of stargazing and a meteor shower?_ **

**__**

**__**

_It was all Liam's idea, I assure you. Even I don't have all the details._

__

__

**_You guys are planning something big._ **

**__**

**__**

_Taking Henry means the opportunity of some great photos._

__

__

_I think that he would enjoy getting down and dirty, all in the sake of photography and astronomy._

__

__

**_Is that what you do now: dirty?_ **

**__**

**__**

_I have my moments._

_  
_

**6:42pm**

****

****

_How is everything going, Emma?_

__

__

**_Everything's great._ **

**__**

**__**

_That's good._

__

__

**_I had an amazing session this afternoon. I am feeling really good right now._ **

**__**

**__**

_That sounds really wonderful. I'm happy for you._

__

__

**_How is everything going with you?_ **

**__**

**__**

_Busy. A heavy workload at the Globe._

__

__

_I'll be taking another one of those weekend-long trips to Springfield Friday._

__

__

**_You won't be home until Monday?_ **

**__**

**__**

_Right_

__

__

_You didn't need me for anything, did you?_

__

__

_Henry didn't mention anything._

__

__

**_No_ **

**__**

**__**

_OK_

_  
_

**9:13pm**

****

****

**_Hey_ **

**_  
_ **

**9:27pm**

****

****

_Sorry. What's up?_

__

__

**_You aren't home, are you?_ **

**__**

**__**

_No_

__

__

_Did you need me?_

__

__

**_No. It was nothing._ **

**__**

**__**

_Are you sure?_

__

__

**_Yeah._ **

**__**

**__**

_OK_

_  
_

It was her own problem. She didn't like the way she was tiptoeing over the issue. She didn't like the fact that she had not approached him in the past day. That wasn't like her.

Emma stood against the kitchen counter and poured the steaming cocoa into her mug. It was only getting later and later. Her shower was over and she had put herself to bed rather early.

Sleep wouldn't come to her. She knew exactly why. It was because her thoughts were on him. Texting had turned up a dead end because he wasn't even there. So she had pulled herself back out of bed and made her way to the kitchen.

The cocoa smelled delicious, even bringing back memories of shared nights when it was just her and her mom.

Emma sniffed at the mug and closed her eyes for a second, enjoying the memory. She enjoyed the fact that she could now see perfection in her mom, yet not be intimidated . It felt good seeing and appreciating the life that she had come from.

With the heat of the mug transferring into her hands, she moved away from the counter and moved out of the kitchen. But… it wasn't the bed that was calling her. More than anything, she was ready to get her life completely back.

****

Emma always had a way of surprising him. It wasn't until Killian was out of the car and cutting a path through the lawn that he saw her.

It was late. She wasn't known to be the sit-on-the-porch-with-legs-tucked-underneath-oneself-late-at-night kind of a person. So what had her there in this instance?

Killian's steps were slow as he made his way to the porch steps. The smile on his face as he watched her was small, and it didn't give too much away.

Her hair was still damp from a recent shower. Perhaps too damp for a night out on the porch.

"What… are you doing?"

She watched as he had come. She watched as he moved up those steps. Bright green eyes and a smile of her own.

"Nothing really," she finally answered.

Sometimes it was hard because his love for her had only grown in the time they were apart. Sometimes it was easier because the apart side of the deal wouldn't be forever. At some point, she would be his in every sense of the word. She would be whole and healthy as a result of that time as well.

Still… There were moments like these where he wanted nothing more than to pull her into his arms and kiss her breathless. To admit the words that were so carefully kept under lock and key until the moment was right again.

"Emma?" It was the shine on her hair lying against the pale of her face that caught his attention. "You shouldn't be out here. You'll end up with a cold. Or something worse."

Her face turned up towards him, her eyes wide.

"I haven't been out for long. And I have my cocoa to keep me warm." She hugged her hands even tighter over the mug as she fluttered her eyes up at him.

Yes, all he wanted to do was kiss her…

"What have you been up to?" she asked softly.

Killian tore his eyes away from her and let them fall to the porch instead. He wouldn't go towards her or get any closer. He took a seat on the edge of the top step.

"I was at Liam and Ruby's," he finally answered her. Leaning against the side of the porch for support, he looked back up at her.

Her gaze was already on him, peering down at him quizzically.

"They were both incredibly proud at getting Liam to go pee pee on the potty." His smile grew at the memory of his nephew.

"They're starting early," Emma murmured, sounding highly impressed.

"Well, Connor's practically a prodigy," he reminded her smoothly. "Or if you let Ruby tell it, he is." He couldn't contain the bit of laughter at that. "She's very proud of her toddler."

"As she has all the right in the world to be."

"I think it also has something to do with getting him out of the baby stage in time for baby number two to make its appearance."

That had Emma's eyes growing, before her eyebrows pulled together in a frown.

"I didn't tell you." Realization dawned on his own face. "In all fairness, I've only known for days."

"She's pregnant?"

"Ruby's pregnant."

Killian smiled, but it faltered as he looked up at her.

They were on baby number two before he'd even had the chance to…

He swallowed hard. Wanting to shake those thoughts from him mind, he shook his head.

"She's only like five weeks along. They're both really excited. We're all really excited."

"It's exciting news," Emma agreed.

Two had become four, and was becoming five. And yet… he wanted much more for the Jones' lineage.

Killian only spared her another second of just looking at her. It wasn't good to just look at her when his thoughts were turning towards the future. One day… He knew that it would be one day. He knew that the waiting wasn't in vain.

"Emma." He was already standing up as he said it. "I should get inside."

He watched as her legs quickly came from under her and the way was pushing herself up to stand as well.

She only wore socks. It was something about the comfortableness of being without shoes that did something to him. In combination with the blonde hair flowing down her back and over her shoulder, it was almost enough to make him need to excuse himself into the confines of his apartment and apart from her. If he couldn't…

"You should be making your way inside as well."

What he didn't do was stop himself from reaching out to lightly brush back a piece of that golden hair away from her cheek and back behind her ear.

"I came out here for a reason."

It came out in such a rush, her wide eyes still on him.

It made his own gaze pinpoint on pieces of her. He didn't know what the sudden change in her was for.

"Then… I should leave you to it," he offered with the briefest of nods, readying himself to retreat.

"I came out here to wait for you."

He hadn't had time to even turn.

Her statement was the surprising bit. Because she did look as if she had something on her mind. She was out there waiting on him, when she had no idea when he would be back. She hadn't asked earlier through text. And yet, she was out there waiting for him. That fact put an odd smile on his lips.

"I needed to talk to you."

Killian watched as she took a step back, moving once again closer to where she had been sitting.

"You need to talk to me?" he asked softly. "What about?"

The mug was set on the floor of the porch beside her abandoned seat. Then, she was back up as quickly as she had left.

The smile on her face was nervous. The way she looked at him was a bit confusing as well.

"What is it, Emma?" She was making him curious. He almost took a step forward, before he stopped himself. "Did something happen?"

That's when she sighed. That's when she moved, closer to him again, bringing them only inches from one another.

She wasn't the flirty type. In the past year of them being apart, he would never have used that term for her. There had always been a comfortable understanding of how close and how intimate they were able to be. Not because something would have happened that would have disturbed the delicate balance of their relationship. It was more to the point of an understanding that boundaries were there for a reason, and that was okay.

So… here she was. All smiles and bright eyes.

"Killian." Another rush of air…

"Emma." He tried to smile, but the curiosity of the whole thing…

"Why is this hard?" Her eyes were squinting on him now.

She had something she needed to tell him. Something that was difficult. That was why she was on the porch. That was why… she was waiting for him.

Killian's lip trembled into a smile.

"Emma, say something," he told her softly. Because his mind had a way of racing when she did things like this.

He watched as her hands moved. They rose to a spot between them. Then, they moved even closer to him, sliding back down to capture his hands in her own.

"Killian?"

Her skin was soft and warm despite the coldness in the air. It was his first thought, but not his last. She was holding his hands. In an intimate way. This was intimate. Unlike any time that he could truly remember.

He looked from their hands back to her face. He noticed then that she was looking down at the way their fingers tangled together.

Was her heart racing as well? His heart was…

"What is it, Emma?" The murmur was thick with emotion. There was only one thing that could have possibly fallen from her lips. There were many ways in which she could have said it, but there was only one possible topic that she had on her mind.

"You really did it," she started softly. It was then that she looked up at him, tears shimmering in her eyes. "You waited for me."

Her eyes. Those tears. Her fingers tightening around his. It was all almost too much, even for him.

"You're worth waiting for, Emma," he whispered quietly.

"An entire year?" There was now a frown on her face with those words. "And you never gave me any indication that it was selfish on my part or that you couldn't do it. Or that you didn't want to do it. You never pressured me in any way. To get over myself. To move on."

"This was time for you to make yourself a whole and complete person," Killian reminded her. "Why would I ever deny you that, when I knew how much you'd struggled with getting yourself there?"

He wanted her whole.

"Even in pieces, you were the woman I wanted." He stared right into her shimmering green eyes, and he felt close to tears himself. God! What she did to him! "When you become whole, you'll be the woman I can have in my life, the woman who wants me just as much as I want her."

Her hands tightened around him even more, her eyes squinting on his.

"You say it with such conviction," she said with a shake of her head.

"You don't think it's true?"

Her tongue came out to lick at her lip. "I know it's true."

That made him smile. "Good." He didn't want the moment to end, but maybe he had been wrong to think it would be more than just this. He stood there, letting her look him over, for her. She did that, while he became overcome with emotion. Emotions that he had not expected to express on this night at this time.

"There's more." Emma smiled, maybe being in tune with his thoughts.

More. It was right there at the edge of his heart: hope. How was he supposed to suppress the hope when she looked at him that way? How was he supposed to keep the flood of feelings and thoughts he'd tried to keep bottled up and to himself from coming to the surface when she was right there in his arms, looking at him the way she did, holding him the way she did?

"I'm… ready, Killian." This time, she nodded.

She'd said…

"I'm ready, Killian."

He could do nothing but blink at her. Was she saying…

If the words weren't clear enough, then the way she slid her hands out from his and let them run over his shoulders to his back told him…

Still…

"Are… you sure?" Her arms around him, her eyes shining on him. "Are you sure, Emma?"

She'd said…

Her arms around his neck wasn't enough. Not if those words were true.

Killian grabbed at her waist, almost lifting her off of her feet. He held on firmly. He held on to Emma, as her arms touched parts of him in a way that she hadn't in a very long time.

"I'm sure. And I'm not running solely on emotion. Dr. Hopper agreed," she said, tilting her head slightly. "I miss you, Killian." She was searching out his face, looking him over. "I love you."

That! That was what was in her eyes. It wasn't as if he hadn't seen it before, but…

His lips curled into another smile. His hand moved from her waist and found a spot just above her ear. Threading his fingers in the slightly damp hair, it was a reminder of a time so long ago.

It was a long year. Not difficult to get through, because there had always been something to look forward at the end of the road. It wasn't difficult not to hold her and say the words, because when the day came, she would be able to hold him back and say the words, too. And he had never gave up hope that it would be forever. A forever kind of love between the two of them.

Both hands. Staring at the face that he wanted at his side for a lifetime, he pushed all his fingers through the mass of her hair. He held her there. Looking at her in awe, because she was awe-inspiring, he let himself touch her.

"I love you, Emma."

Forever.

"I know that." It was a whisper. The tears were back as she looked him over. "I truly know that, Killian."

Running his fingers through her hair, he pulled even closer. His forehead bumped carefully against hers. And… it really was her. She was there, in totality, with him.

"Damn it, what is it that you do to me?"

Emma's fingers ran up his arms and held on tight to the muscle there. She gripped at him, pulling herself even closer than before.

"Whatever it is, you do it to me as well," she whispered against him. "Killian." She sighed.

It was still almost too unbelievable.

"It's been a year," she said. "Do you mind if we ease into this? To take into account the chance to get to know each other all over again."

And then it became perfectly believable. Her request…

Killian smiled against her.

"That sounds like something we can definitely do. Emma?" He pulled her back just a bit so that he could see her face. "Emma, I love you."

There was a tear falling down her cheek, but it was the smile that spoke volumes.

"I love you, too, Killian."


	23. Epilogue (Part 2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, this truly is the last chapter and the end of the story. Although… it would be really awesome to do some one-shots from this verse. Maybe? Please, continue to enjoy this fic through its ending.

It was a perfect day. Beautiful late spring weather brought with it a bright sun and just a whisper of a wind kicking up a light breeze. The smell of freshly cut grass mingled with the scent of the barbecue that was going strong only yards away. The sounds of music coming from inside of the house were the perfect backdrop to watching the scene play out in front of him. Leaning over the railing of the porch, he had the perfect view of that scene.

Henry was hunkered down over his new telephoto lens camera, a present graciously given by his dad. Liam had walked away from manning the grill so that he could hoist a plump baby Connor high on his shoulder. What was up in the sky that held the toddler's attention, Killian wasn't sure. Ruby, in all her pregnancy glory, busied herself with the finishing touches of setting the picnic-style table. They would be gathering there soon enough. And Emma…

She had slipped out to the car with the promise of coming back with the most perfect capper of this great barbecue-grilling-with-the-family day. Well, his family. His family? Just… family.

Killian was getting ahead of himself. They had just made things official not that long ago. Finally. It had been a long and winding road to get to this point. Not that the time and hard work mattered when the end result was this.

The scene before him, it begged to be captured. He knew that Henry would capture some uncanny photos with his new camera. Still… He felt pensive at the fact that he had not thought to bring any of his art supplies with him…

"You look absolutely besotted."

How had she moved so quickly over to him? He watched his sister's careful footsteps up the stone porch steps.

"And you look…" It would be important to choose his words carefully. "Absolutely aglow."

Having made it up to the porch, Ruby's eyes turned shrewdly on him.

"That was a fat joke, wasn't it, Killian?"

An eyebrow lifted in faux surprise. "Of course not, love." He moved to grab her by the waist, catching her off guard and pulling her into his arms. "It was a remark at your growing pregnancy."

Ruby's hands pushed and shoved at him, creating a much needed space.

"You cannot tell anything," she muttered as she tore herself away from him.

Killian grinned, watching her wiggle. His hands went up in surrender, letting her go completely.

"As I was saying…" Ruby spun back around so that she was facing him.

There was a glow about her. It was just the effect of pregnancy. A pregnancy that she and Liam were both only now happy to share with everyone. Twelve weeks had been the magic number…

"I came over here to bother you because you look absolutely besotted, Killian Jones." Her hands smoothed over the barely there bump of baby number two, but her eyes were solely on him. "And I think I know why." There was a twinkle in her eyes now. An all-knowing smile as if she had a secret she was dying to share.

"Why is that, love?" he asked in a whisper. But of course she knew. It was as much of a secret as the baby in her belly was.

"Did you enjoy your weekend away, Killian?" The smile was teasing, the brightness in her eyes only highlighting that. "Your first trip away with Emma?"

Killian tried not to let his mind linger too far on those magnificent days and unbelievable nights…

"We enjoyed our weekend very much," he assured her softly.

The smile on her face was still there, but there was less teasing now. It was replaced by something else. To define that look of softness would be… to fall even more into the emotions behind it.

Ruby moved closer, her eyes searching over him.

"How did you finally ask her?" A raise of her own eyebrow. "To make it official? To give you the title of boyfriend?"

Killian bit back his own smile as he grabbed at her once more. With an arm closed tightly around her waist, his mouth moved just above her ear.

"I don't think you really want the details of that one, love," he murmured softly into that ear. Hugging her tighter still, he dropped a kiss on her cheek.

"You are incorrigible." It was said with distaste as she pushed herself as far back away from him as possible. "Or…" The look was back. A mysterious look that was still undefinable.

Maybe it was delight and… maybe even pride?

"Or it could just be the fact that I'm seeing you truly happy for the first time since I've known you."

Looking at her as she looked at him, Killian couldn't help but think that perhaps she hit the nail right on the head with that one.

"She makes me happy," he agreed with a nod of his head. And then, because… "They make me happy."

"My god." Ruby pushed herself out of his embrace while that same look of her face grew even more.

"What?"

"I'm just wondering what's going to come first: this baby or you finding yourself at the end of an altar."

It wasn't even a scary thought. Instead, it was a wishful thought that he couldn't answer to. They'd established a relationship. That was… so much. To let his mind wander to thoughts of putting a ring on Emma's finger, to making her his wife- to be her husband… Well, he had no control over those thoughts. He had them…

"Killian?"

"What?" He blinked his eyes, turning his attention back to her.

Another long stare. Another moment to take him in. And then she was on the move, once again stepping close to him.

"I never want to hear you complain or joke about my husband being wrapped about his wife's finger, because you, sir, are the most whipped man that I have ever set eyes on."

Killian watched, a bit stunned, as she turned on her heel and began to make her way down from the porch. The smile on his face was small as her words ran through his mind.

"Oh, by the way." Ruby turned back towards him, her eyes finding him again. "Congratulations!"

The small smile turned into a full-on grin. Whipped. Huh…

Well, if whipped brought him this…

His eyes scanned the span of the yard again. Henry was up, camera to eye. His subject was a grabby-handed toddler who was now away from his father. Liam stood in front of the grill again, tongs in hand, surveying his skills at the task of pleasing everyone. Ruby… she cut through the grass, in what looked like to search out her husband.

He could deal with being whipped…

Emma. Where was she?

Killian turned around, readying himself to head inside the house.

It was through the glass of the door, he saw her.

Maybe Ruby was on to something, because his breath caught in his throat the moment she came into view. There was something about the confidence of her stride. It was strong, like before. But there was also an ease to it. The way her hips gently swayed from side to side, the way she held her head up high, and when she saw him… There was a particularly beautiful smile that lit up her face.

Well, maybe…

She had gone to the car that was parked in the front of the house a while ago. What it seemed she had brought back was his satchel, which was flung over her shoulder and down the front of her.

Killian stepped back as she got closer to the door, but the smile was a permanent fixture.

"Hey." Emma pushed herself through the door, finally putting herself in proximity to him. "Were you headed in?"

"Actually, I was on my way to search out for you," he informed her in a murmur.

Her smile was carefree. He liked that. But… he turned his eyes to the bag she held on to, more than curious as to what was in it.

"What do you have there, love?"

"Something that I think you'll like," Emma said, still smiling. Although she was in arm's length from him, she walked passed him and made her way over to the railing of the porch.

Ah, Ruby!

He was helpless when it came to following her back over to where he'd once stood.

The bag sat on the edge of the railing, but her eyes moved to look across the lawn in front of them.

Killian slipped behind her, his hands lightly finding her waist and smoothing down.

It was hard to keep his thoughts off the fact that… he was hers. She chose him. After everything, she chose him…

Hands lying still on the satchel, Emma leaned back into him. Her head rested against his chest, allowing for an even greater opportunity to take in her scent.

A lucky man, for sure.

"This is… really nice." It was soft. Reflective. Her tone had a bit of awe in it. "Having all of us together. You know, being included."

Family.

He'd make that part official, too, given the chance.

"You see what I see," Killian murmured into her hair, his lips barely grazing the top of her head. "I should have-"

"Thought to capture this moment?" Emma twisted halfway in his arms and looked up at him. "Which is why I brought your things."

The bag was hanging off of the railing, held only by Emma's single hand.

"What are you talking about?"

Killian's gaze follow her movements. She turned fully back around, bumping her most perfect and pretty little bottom into him once again. But her hands were on the moving, fishing out the contents of the satchel.

"I thought these may have come in handy."

It was…

The first thing that came out of that bag was one of his sketchbooks…

"Where'd you find this one?" Killian closed his hand over the pre-offered book, recognizing it as one of his more personal items.

Emma turned her face up to him, her smile not quite hidden by the biting of her lip.

"I didn't look through it before I stuffed it into the bag." She shrugged. "I was on a time limit."

He felt the unfamiliar tinge of red stinging his cheeks and didn't know why.

"You're a beautiful subject, Emma," he told her softly. "Some things are best left between the two of us. Let's not let this one get out of sight."

He listened to her laugh as he took hold of the book. He could still feel the burning of his cheeks at the realization of what he held and how he came to hold it. It also brought with it the fact that she had… planned all of this.

"You brought my supplies?"

"Henry brought his camera," she reminded him as she continued to fish out those supplies from his bag. "I thought that maybe you'd like to do some capturing of your own."

Was it possible? To fall in love with her even more by that simple act? God, yes! Yes, it was!

Everything else, everything but Emma- the music, the squeals of laughter, the sounds of life beyond where they stood together- was a backdrop. Something that didn't quite matter in that moment.

Killian watched the woman he loved. He watched Emma as she slipped away from him, grabbing up the bag. Watched as she moved to the top step of the porch and how she took an easy seat right there. He watched as she spread out the variety of pens, pencils, and loose papers from that bag.

"This is the perfect day."

She absolutely did ridiculous things to him.

"I'm glad that Liam and Ruby invited us." It was then that Emma looked up at him.

Damn! She did it to him often… It was those damn green eyes that turned on him. It was those lips that held just the tiniest hints of a smile. It was the ease in which she cared for him. The way she loved him.

"What?" She'd turned suspicious, the smile on her face growing.

Killian was quick to move. Stepping over towards her, he held out his hand for her.

Emma took it immediately, but there was still curiosity that ran across her face.

"Killian, what?" But she let him pull her back up to stand next to her.

"Thank you, Emma, for bringing all of this for me." Although he could have looked into her face forever, he glanced beyond her to the scene in front of him. "I was thinking the same thing."

She draped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer to her and holding on tight.

"I thought that it might cross your mind at some point," she murmured against his cheek. The kiss came next. A chaste kiss right there on his cheek.

Chaste kisses were… sweet.

His hand came up to smooth over her cheek as he turned his mouth into her. The hand holding the sketchbook bumped against her ass. Book be damned, the firmness still felt good as he pushed her against him.

The chaste kiss became something completely different. Killian opened his mouth on hers, tilting her head just so to get a better taste of her. The fact that she hadn't shied away, but instead pushed farther into him and returned the kiss, only drove his need for her. Perhaps it was the lack of inhibition. There was no need for propriety when it came to those who were around them.

It was the moan that did him in. The need for her growing wildly. His hand curving around her bottom, his other hand finding the silkiness of her hair…

"Mm… come on." Killian was pulling away from her, stepping back farther on the porch. He let his gaze linger towards the yard for only a second.

"What are you talking about?"

He was already grabbing at her hand, pulling her with him towards the door that she had not too long ago come out of.

"Let's go inside."

It was those muttered words that had put a stop in her steps.

"If we go inside, you're going to miss all of that."

Killian's grasp on her hand tightened as he looked back at her. She tossed a hand out towards the scene in front of them.

"You know, our family and the great day we're all having together." Emma's eyes, bright as ever, clashed on his. "I thought you wanted to get all of this."

She said our family. She didn't say our families, or your family and my family…

"They're not going anywhere any time soon." Holding on to her hand, Killian pulled her into him. "They won't even notice our absence." His arm wrapped around her waist and he dragged her with the rest of the way to the door.

"I can't believe you… No way do you want to… in your brother's house?"

The words that left her mouth may have sounded objectionable, but the rest of her was saying something else completely different.

"Hm… I think our bigger worry would be Ruby, not Liam."

He'd barely got her through the door before she stopped again.

"I was joking," he murmured into her neck. "Kind of." He pressed a soft kiss right there. "Come on. You can trust me."

"I do."

It was soft and earnest and… the acknowledgment of trust from Emma Swan was always going to do something to him.

Killian let her go, taking her only by the hand and leading her through the rooms of the house. The hold she had on his was firm and… trusting, he thought with a smile to himself.

There was always a chance that someone could walk into the house as well. Tightening his hand around hers, he headed for the staircase.

They passed by Connor's room.

"Definitely not."

He agreed wholeheartedly with her…

The master bedroom?

"Tempting."

Hmm…

Emma laughed from behind him. God, he loved her giggle!

The bathroom sat at the end of the hall…

"Oh, is this not cliché?"

"I don't think it's a problem." Killian was quick to turn around to face her, managing to keep the grin at a minimum. His hand sought her hair, digging his fingers in deep and to the root.

It was her that pushed herself into him, her mouth catching his in a kiss. Her hands reached up to clutch at his shoulders, her nails doing some digging of their own.

Their steps towards the bathroom were clumsy at best. The multi-tasking of walking and clawing at one another was not the easiest.

They were all hands, all smiles, all laughs…

Emma kicked the bathroom door closed behind her.

"Oh my God, they're going to kill us." There was still a smile on her face despite the murmur. She pressed her back into the door, her eyes only on him.

"Well, maybe... If they found out." The damn book. He tossed the sketchbook down on top of the clothes hamper that was sitting in one of the corners. "Do not let me forget to grab that before we leave."

Before he had time to give his full attention to her, Emma was wrapping her arms back around his neck.

"I love you, Killian."

He loved when she took charge. He loved when it was soft and romantic. He loved when it was like this: passion-driven and hot.

Her mouth attacked his before the words could escape.

While placing his now free hands over her hips, he knew this was the best idea he had that entire day. With her thighs gripping at his own hips, he decided it was this was the best idea he had since their mini-vacation.

The door was option number one. There were two walls available as option two. But it was option number three, the sink, that won out.

Lifting her higher around his waist, Killian finally deposited her there on the top of the wide sink.

Her fingers were at his shoulders again, pulling him into her.

He had a chance to look at her, this woman who had just vowed that she loved him. Beautiful green eyes shining mischievously at him. Pink lips even pinker already from kisses. Pretty dimple in chin that begged to be kissed as well.

"Emma?" His own hand went back to sweep over the blonde strands of hair, pushing it away from her face.

Sometimes it hit him. Like now…

"I love you, too, Emma."

Standing between her opened legs, Killian felt the way she tightened her grip on him, simultaneously pulling him into her and her against him.

"Let's agree that we're both pretty lucky," she whispered with a smile. But it was the way that she was looking at him. She looked at him as if she understood and was feeling the same thing that he was in that moment.

There was a part of him that needed to make a confession. Even with having her sitting there in front of him, wrapped around him, there was so much more that this was…

"What are you thinking, Killian?" she asked softly, her head tilting just slightly.

It made him smile. It made him grin, actually. It was never like this before. Before Emma… this was all just a dream that he never thought he'd actually have.

"I'm thinking… that… I want this forever." His heart began beating all the faster, and he knew the cause of it. "I want this. I want it all, Emma. With you. Forever."

She took in the smallest of breaths, but other than that…

"Does that scare you for me to admit?" Killian asked quietly. Her answer…

Emma's lips twitched into another smile. Her hands moved from his shoulders and she let her arms wrap around his neck.

"That doesn't scare me," she assured him with a shake of her head. "I want the same thing." This time, she sighed, cocking her head once more. "Didn't you know that?"

She had a way of making his heart almost burst… The ache was strong in his chest. It felt really good.

"Do you know everything that I want?" he asked. Because he wanted a lot.

"You want… us forever," Emma started slowly. "Which is only the beginning- and basically a foregone conclusion."

Even if it felt really good, Killian didn't know how much he could take.

"You want marriage." An eyebrow lifted sharply. "You want a baby."

That did it…

Killian's hands tightened around her waist as his chest tightened even more. He felt the scrunch of his face as he wore the pain clear for her to see. Hiding it would be impossible.

"How about babies?" He reached for her lips for a quick and soft peck.

Which lingered…

As thoughts ran through his mind.

"God, does everything have to be competition with your brother?" It was said teasingly against his cheek.

Killian pulled back from her, surprise clearly on his face.

"Ha ha. Funny, Emma."

"I thought so," Emma said in a sing-song voice, her fingers curling at the ends of his hair at the nape of his neck.

His own fingers gripped at his waist even more firmly. Staring at the face that had just said… said everything so perfectly, he didn't want to mess it all up.

Still…

"Damn it, it's way too early for me to ask you to marry me, when I just asked you to be my girlfriend."

Emma shrugged. "And in your brother's bathroom…"

Yes, she was going to kill him.

"Right." Killian smiled back at her, loving the banter over a very real and serious topic. "So I won't ask you right now."

She nodded, her bottom lip poking out just a bit. "Okay."

If I asked you?

Killian didn't voice the thought. Instead, he concentrated on her hands.

Emma slid her hands down his shoulders, over his chest, bumped down his stomach, and lightly caressed the entire length of his waist.

If he asked…

Those fingers slipped over the button.

She would say…

The button became undone under those fingers.

Yes…

She took the tab of the zipper next.

So when he did ask her…

Slowly, so very slowly, she pulled it down.

The answer would be yes…

"Emma, love."

Her eyes reached his, still soft and beautiful.

"Just imagine us having all the time in the world, Killian." She smiled, a tiny smile that sent his heart fluttering.

Leaning in close, his lips reached for hers again.

Imagine? No, Killian didn't have to imagine.

They definitely had all the time in the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who joined me through this journey. This was a very personal tale that I've woven together. It came to fruition when I was feeling really down about myself. It came to me when so many things in my life seemed to be going wrong, and it had been… a while since I had actually felt that bad about myself…
> 
> This story was part canon Emma Swan and part me. There were many scenarios and feelings that I drew from personal experience. What I really appreciated from comments that I've received over the past few months were the ones from those who have felt depression themselves. To know that I portrayed Emma's pain in ways that felt authentic made it so worth going through the pain as the writer. And for those readers who didn't know much about depression, hopefully this story gave a tiny view of what it is like.
> 
> At one point, I was debating on not giving Emma her happy ending. Because even though it took her a year to feel comfortable enough to be with Killian in a relationship and a year to feel good about herself, it is not always so easy to look yourself in the mirror and admit you need help. So I did think about giving the story that authentic approach to my story. I also realized that I could do in fic what I can't do so easily in real life: I can give this person who lives with the disease of depression a happy ending. Where it doesn't continuously hurt!
> 
> I had the opportunity to research things that I wouldn't have done at another time. And although I love Emma's bravery here, it's not so easy to instill that feeling in myself. So, again, I am very proud of all the work this character has done here. It was nothing but bravery. And I'm happy that she got everything she wanted- including an understanding of herself- by the end of this story….


	24. Epilogue (Part 3)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love this story! It's very special to me. I am happy that I get a chance to come back to this universe again after so long of being away from it. And it's all because of you, Miranda. For your birthday... enjoy the next step in Emma and Killian journey! Happy birthday!

Killian's hand slipped from over Emma's blouse to underneath it. Fingertips smoothed over the flatness of her stomach, lightly tickling her. He seemed to take advantage of her squirming against of him because of it, his mouth opening wide over the side of her neck.

Her smile was involuntary. Most likely due to the fact that she loved the man, even though he was being a hindrance, instead of a helper.

She was fully dressed. She was minutes away from walking out of the apartment to begin her day. Yes, it was early for her, but there was a reason for why she was leaving for work at… six thirty in the morning. And if she let him distract her…

"Killian!" It was meant as warning. "I don't have time for this." Emma attempted, albeit a feeble attempt, to move away from him.

"A continuation of last night?" he murmured against her neck, once again aligning his body to hers. His hand over her stomach pressed her even closer against him.

The feel of… No. No!

Emma turned around in his hold so that she could face him. She wouldn't be deterred by the sexy glint of his eyes or the devilishly handsome grin that he was trying to keep at bay.

"You're trying to make me late," she accused, narrowing her own eyes on him. "I can't be late. I have a busy morning that will only run through to the afternoon and perhaps even into the evening."

"And you were visibly tense about it," Killian told her quickly. His eyes lost the sexy glint and became more serious. His arms tightened around her waist. "I was only offering to help you with that."

Emma smiled at the smoothness of his voice. "Should have thought about that earlier then." Placing her hands on the arms that were wrapped around her, she pulled herself away from him. "I was awake, you know."

There was a part of her that wanted to follow where he was leading. She liked when she was able to give in to his whims. Today just wasn't going to be one of those times.

"Rain check then," Killian said easily. "I see… a hot bubble bath in our near future."

Emma turned back around to look at him, catching him coming up close once more.

"I doubt that it will be in our very near future. This weekend is so jam-packed with things that are happening and things that need to happen."

"Oh, I'm well aware of what is happening." His words were soft, meaningful.

They made her smile. They made her go easily back into his arms, where she'd wanted to be if only for a few minutes more. Thoughts of the upcoming weekend left her overwhelmed with feelings.

"Thank you for picking up Henry from the airport for me, Killian," she murmured up at him, sighing contently. "It'll save me from having to interrupt my work. Which means I can hopefully get done all the faster." It was those things that softened her resolve towards him even more, making her want to stay just like this for as long as possible.

Killian was quick to shake his head. "You don't have to thank me, Emma." Again, he shook his head, a frown covering his face. This time, his hand came up to caress her cheek. "It isn't just an 'Emma and Henry' thing. Not anymore."

"It hasn't been only an 'Emma and Henry' thing for quite some time," she added, because since the moment he had walked into their lives… The relationship that he had with Henry would always be amazing to Emma. To witness and to experience. She was… a very lucky woman.

"If this weekend signifies anything at all, it is that," Killian told her quietly. His eyes had lost all their mirth, leaving behind some deep emotion that was real and true. "It's been almost two years to the day. Your second lease is up, and we're finally going to do this thing the right way." Both hands fell over her cheeks, holding her there so that he could look right into her eyes. "You two are moving in."

Two years. He had been a part of her life for two years. And… she wondered how she had ever lived without knowing him. The truth of the matter, though, was that… she hadn't lived such a great life before him. He had forever changed her, all for the better. Not only with his love for her, but with the tools and help that had given her the ability to fix herself (for herself). If it wasn't for him… Emma didn't know what would have pushed her to take a firm hold on her own issues and her own life.

"This is going to be interesting." She couldn't help the automatic squint of her eyes as she looked at him.

"What's that, love?" Killian let his hands slip from her cheek, letting them smooth down her neck and over her shoulders.

"All of us living together here," she told him lightly. "I mean, it is going to be a change."

"Mm, I'm willing to give up the late night rendezvous, with you sneaking over into my bed, if it means I get to have you there every night." The glint was back in his eyes again.

Emma huffed out a small laugh, tilting her head as she watched him. "What about giving up those bubble baths, Killian? Are you okay with that, too?"

She read the confusion on his face as he slightly pulled back. "What do you mean?"

"Henry will be here," she reminded him. Her lips curled into a smile. "We'll be living in this one apartment, which cuts our space in half. Which means... being a lot more discreet in certain matters. You know what I mean?" She couldn't help but raise an eyebrow up at him. "Henry is coming home from Tallahassee and it will be the three of us. Right... here."

Looking into his eyes, she could see the wheels turning in his head.

"Are you saying…?" He pulled her closer to him, his mouth coming close to her ear. "No more bubble baths?"

Laughter bubbled up inside of her, but it was a sigh that escaped from between her lips.

"Well, there was a reason why our meetings normally happened at my place when Henry was away," she reminded him quietly. She waited until he pulled back, until he looked at her.

Killian pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, scraping over it. There was still a look of consideration he chose to give her.

"I like to think of myself as an incredibly creative person, Emma Swan," he assured her smoothly. "I am up for the challenge of proving you wrong on this one."

His words made her bite her own lip. "I guess we will see." To keep herself from laughing, she reached up for his lips with her own, kissing him softly.

It was meant to be a goodbye kiss. It was meant to be something quick and sweet and full of love. It wasn't supposed to include his hands cupping over her hips and him pulling her closer against him.

"Okay." It was a thick murmur as Killian finally pushed her away. "I'm going to have to let you leave before I won't be able to let you leave."

His words, and the way his hands on her hips helped turn her around, put another smile on her face.

"Thank God for your creativity," Emma murmured through a smile. She took hold of one hand as it rested on her waist, turning around to face him. "Call me as soon as Henry touches down."

"I will," Killian assured her with a smile.

Emma almost sighed, but there truly was no need to feel anxious about today nor the weekend.

"See you tonight," she whispered.

****

Killian planted a hand into her hair and pulled her closer, dropping a kiss on her forehead.

"See you tonight, love."

Killian's fingers rubbed roughly over his chin. He stopped himself just short of shaking his head, but he still was a bit in awe of the lad who was walking his way.

Henry had put on a couple more inches since the last time he was home. Fifteen years old. That was…. simply amazing. He'd been thirteen when they'd met. Two years ago. At that point, who would have imagined that… their lives would turn into what they had?

"Killian!" In person, the voice was even a bit deeper… Spotting him, Henry moved through the throng of unboarded passengers, making his way toward him.

By God, it was hard to believe that it wasn't his blood running through the boy or that it had only been two years that they'd actually known each other. Killian pulled his hand away from his chin as he smirked at the oncoming Henry. The next time he left for the summer in Tallahassee, he'd come back the legal driving age signifying the end of those special road trips between him and his grandfather.

Killian lifted a hand out towards Henry when he made it near him. The smirk became a genuinely happy smile as he watched the outstretched hand come his way.

"My God, boy," he murmured softly, "just look at you." His arm closed around his shoulders, hugging him tightly against him.

"Tell me you're not going to be like Mom, please, Killian." Henry pulled back away from him, his smile bright as he looked at him.

Standing next to him, Killian began to look him over. "I won't be like your mother. But, it's good to see you. It's good to have you home."

Henry was quick to nod. "I'm happy to be home again."

Killian wrapped his arm back around his shoulder, pulling him closer to him once again.

"Let's get your bags and be on our way, shall we?" He raised an eyebrow as they began to move. "It's a big weekend, with lots to do. I hope that you're not upset about coming home from your dad's only to endure another move." His eyes drifted back over him.

Henry lifted a shoulder in a shrug as he looked over at him. "It's across the hall. I'm kind of familiar with the area."

His humor put a smile on Killian's face as he nodded in understanding.

"Hopefully, it's the last one though," Henry confessed easily.

"Well, perhaps just one final one," Killian sighed "An actual house has to be in our future, right?"

It was Henry's turn to smile. "When you put it that way, then yeah. I could go for just one more, somewhere down the line."

****

"Mom said that it would probably work out best if we just meet her at Liam and Ruby's place."

Killian pushed the key through the keyhole and opened the door before he turned around to Henry.

"She said that she will try to make it there by five, which she thinks she'll be able to do," he continued, looking up from his phone that held the text message.

"Hm, that's fine," Killian murmured. He grabbed at the suitcases next to him before he moved into the apartment. Henry came in right behind him, with bags as well.

His thoughts turned back on Emma's words to Henry. Five o'clock was still pretty late. Emma would have had a long day. The smile was involuntary as he began to think of ways of helping her relax. Unfortunately….

"We'll leave in a little bit then, after I get through some of this research on one of my articles," he said with a nod.

They both pushed themselves into the apartment, dropping the luggage down in the middle of the living room.

"Killian?" The question in Henry's voice called for immediate attention.

Killian turned around towards him. "Yeah?"

His face was one of amazement, his smile barely there and his eyes wondrous.

"Are you going to show it to me?" This time, his smile grew in expectation.

It didn't take Killian by surprise. He bit down on his lip as he watched Henry from only feet away. At least he looked excited. He wanted Henry to be happy about the idea.

"It's in the closet," he murmured with a shrug.

Henry's chin lifted, only his eyes lighting up hinting to his eagerness. "I want to see it."

The thought of the box sitting in his jacket pocket had Killian turned towards the direction of the closet. Henry wanted to see it. He wanted Henry to see it,

Killian's head bobbed up and down. "Aye, I'll get it."

He felt the stammer of his feet, shuffling about without making much progress. He shook his head and grinned to himself. His sudden nervousness was surprising even to himself.

Killian moved quicker, heading straight for the closet. The jacket that he'd place the box in was near the back. It was a jacket that he had not worn in quite some time, and he knew that Emma would have never gone in there and found it.

He sorted through the array of outerwear that hung from the rail. The black jacket caught his attention suddenly, his hand slipping inside and reaching for the inner pocket immediately. Being the only thing inside that pocket, his fingers gripped at the small jewelry box. The significance of that box was felt immediately as well, Killian feeling the speeding of his heart instantly.

With a sigh, he came back out of the closet and shut the door behind him. When he turned, he could see that Henry had stayed exactly in the middle of the living room floor.

Killian's hand tightened on that box for just a moment, measuring the weight of it, before he tossed it Henry's way. It was an easy catch, landing in both of Henry's hands with a soft thump. A smile crossed his face as he waited to see what the response would be.

The gravity of the situation was lost on the lad. He snapped the box open, seemingly without thought. Upon seeing the ring for the first time, he raised an eyebrow and tilted back his head.

"It's nice, Killian. I think she's going to love it." Henry looked up at him then, a grin now in place of the smile. "Do you think she suspects anything?"

Killian's thoughts turned towards the last few months. His mind replayed the day at the jewelry shop with Ruby. He remembered the first moment he had seen the diamond collar engagement ring in the glass case. Ruby had quietly, yet respectfully, pouted over the idea of Emma getting the fourteen karat white gold ring when she had his mother's ring. (Liam had been the sentimental type at the time of his proposal.) He didn't know much about rings, but this one, with its nearly one karat round diamond that was surrounded by a diamond-studded "collar," hence the name, brought the weight up to a full karat. Emma didn't seem to need big and flashy, but her ring… her ring would fit her perfectly.

"I don't think she suspects anything at all." It came out thick from sudden emotion. Killian's eyebrows knitted together as he turned his gaze straight on Henry. "You don't think she suspects anything, do you? I mean… not from any of your conversations with her as of late?"

Henry was slow to shake his head, his lips pursing as his mind ran through the possibilities of Emma's knowledge.

"Good." Killian nodded. "That's good." He took in a quick and sudden deep breath. "I'm hoping that it comes as a surprise. A good surprise."

"One that she answers 'yes' to?" Henry asked lightly. He smiled again as he moved over towards Killian, his hand stretching out to give back the ring.

"Aye, that's the idea." Killian scraped his teeth over his lip as he took the box.

From the natural light filtering into the room, the diamonds sparkled all the more.

"She'll say yes," Henry offered, sounding every bit of supportive.

Killian snapped the box close and let his gaze fall back on him.

Henry. Two years. He was as much a part of Killian's life as Emma was. They were as much a part of his life as Liam and his family were. Except it was different because… Emma and Henry were his family. And it was time to make that into reality.

Killian raised an eyebrow at him. "I'm just waiting on the day that the word falls from her lips."

****

Excuse after excuse. It was the first thing that came to Emma's mind when she heard the knock on the door. The moving men were already there. And where were her own personal moving men? Well, one of them had believed that his first night back home from being away for the whole summer was actually spending the night with his best friend instead of his family. But he'd come home a week earlier than usual, so wasn't it okay that he got this one night to hang out? Fine… And Killian's excuse? Well, when late night political stories broke, sometimes it meant sudden trips to Springfield to catch a lead on said story. That, supposedly, didn't mean he couldn't make it back by the time the movers were to arrive. Apparently, that was only theoretical because…

Emma ran up to the door to answer it. At least she could count on the paid movers to be on time...

A sigh left her lips at the sight of the man at her door. "Good morning."

"Good morning." Her greeter's head ducked down as he pulled the clipboard up to his face. "Ms. Emma Swan?"

"Yep, that's me." Emma slapped her hand down over her thigh as she stepped aside.

There was one more behind the first mover, she realized as they began to move inside. But it was no longer them who held her attention. She glanced across the hall at the matching door. The strands of annoyance drifted away. She was finally saying goodbye to her apartment. They were finally going to make the step of trying out the one big happy family thing. And even in Killian's present absence (the need to roll her eyes was one she couldn't contain), there was a feeling of complete and utter happiness about the way her life was turning out.

For some reason, hearing the ringing of her phone from her pocket made her believe that the euphoric feeling was going to be taken away. Emma pulled at the phone and instantly slid her thumb over the bar.

"Henry?"

"Good morning, Mom." His voice had a note of excitement to it.

"Good morning." She'd returned his greeting out of habit, but there was something more important on her mind. "Are you on your way back home now?"

"Yeah. That's why I was calling. To let you know that I'll be there in about a half hour to get helping with the move."

Emma sighed at her son's timing. "I don't even know how this happened. We were supposed to be getting everything out of the apartment early this morning. And then you decide to go spend your first night back home with your friend."

"I'm on my way, Mom, I promise," Henry assured her easily.

"Killian's not even here yet. The movers are going to have all the furniture out of here before we even start moving all the little stuff over to the other apartment."

Emma's frustration did not seem to faze her son. Not if she took his response as a clue to what he was feeling.

"I'll be there soon, okay?"

"Okay, Henry," she sighed. "I'll see you soon."

After a quick exchange of goodbyes between the two, Emma disconnected the call. She stared down at the phone in her hand, noting the time. And noting how the two guys in her life were absent at the start of their new beginning.

What a start to this new family-style of life...

****

The moving men were in and out, and had accomplished a large portion of the job. She watched the way they maneuvered the mattress through the door by angling it in the only way possible. It would take them a minute to come back inside, so she was ready to start her part of the move.

The apartment was becoming bare, so many things already being taken out. Seeing the way the apartment began to empty out left Emma a bit nostalgic. Two years. She hadn't expected her life to twist and turn the way that it had when she signed that lease. She hadn't expected to find herself and find love in the process. But she had.

Emma patted down her pocket, feeling for her keys. Finding them there, she moved towards the stack of three cardboard boxes sitting near the wall. Those weren't going into storage, but going home with her. Even with a small amount of annoyance towards her guys, she smiled at the thought of being together in that one space. It was… happening. And no turning back because… she'd never want to turn back from what this was.

Placing her foot on the bottom of the stack of boxes and watching the back of the second mover disappear from the doorway, she pushed the heavy load towards the door.

****

Killian felt like his heart was going to surely beat right out of his chest. This was the moment. Right here. No turning back. Not that he wanted to. No, he wanted everything that came with moving forward.

He smiled at the first mover as they dragged out the mattress. They exchanged quick nods of understanding. Watching the piece of furniture being moved out of the apartment signified that it was time. He couldn't see Henry from his spot outside the door, but he knew he was ready and in position.

He remembered that day he first saw her exactly two years ago. He remembered every feeling and every thought that had crossed his mind that morning, when he was witness to the most infinitesimal fraction of the mystery lady who would have to be in his life in some way. He just had no clue of the true magnitude of her role in his life would be.

The mattress and second mover disappearing from the doorway was a means to an end. Killian's eyes were already there, waiting for the reveal of what he knew he would see.

Standing inside his own doorway, his eyes widened as he tried to expand his view. He could still make out only a sliver of the inside of her apartment.

It was the moving stack of boxes that was being shoved across the floor that came into view. And then…. it was only a whisper of her form from behind those boxes, just a hint of blonde hair, illuminated by the overhead light, falling over a slip of shoulder.

The boxes moved again, this time offering up more of Emma in the process. Killian angled his head, hoping to increase his chances of catching more of the woman who took his breath away. He didn't know what it was, as he watched her step away from behind that stack and placing her hands on her hips. He didn't know if it was the past, the present, or thoughts of the future that knocked him back against the doorframe as he looked at her then.

Maybe it was the sound of his back hitting the wall that drew her eyes up, that drew that once haunted-looking green gaze up, and settle on him from across the hall.

The look on Emma's face was one of surprise, followed quickly by the narrowing of her eyes and tilt of her chin.

"Killian?" Her hands fell away from her hips as she stared hardly at him. "What the hell are you doing here?"

****

It was the fact that he leaned there with eyes on her and unmoving.

"Killian?" Emma let her hands fall away from her hips and she stared right back at him. "What they hell are you doing here?"

He wasn't supposed to be back from his trip for hours. She had tried to tamper her annoyance about that fact from the moment he had informed her. But now… now here he stood, or rather leaned, only feet away from her.

He was silent as he finally pushed himself off of the wall, his eyes making a trail over her.

With a sigh, Emma turned back to the tower of boxes beside her She kicked at the bottom again, making the entire stack move only the merest of inches. Looking back at him, he was still silent as before.

"I would think that you'd be eager to help me get all of this stuff over to the other apartment, not stand there compliantly just looking at me," she muttered with a huff this time. One hand went back to her hip as her eyes widened expectantly.

Killian offered only a shuffle of his feet as he kept close to the wall. But there was something about the somber look to his eyes and the calmness to his entire face.

"Do you remember, Emma, the day that you moved in?" It was a quiet murmur as he took one firm step towards her.

His ignoring of her question to ask an out of place one of his own confused her

"Are you feeling a bit nostalgic all of a sudden, Killian?" she asked lightly. She moved then, stepping closer towards the doorway.

"Ah…" A smile broke across his face and his eyes crinkled in the corners. "A bit nostalgic, yes." This time, his eyes blinked at her, his mouth hanging slightly open.

Maybe he was more than a bit nostalgic. There was something odd about his stammer and the shuffle of his feet before her.

"Killian?" Emma said his name slowly, tilting her head just so as she watched him. "Are you going to come over here and start helping me move this stuff?"

"Emma…"

She lifted an eyebrow as she leaned a shoulder against the door frame. Her arms crossed over her chest as she waited for the words to come out.

Killian's mouth opened again, looking as if he was actually attempting to do exactly what she wanted him to do: speak.

"The first time I saw you, it was only a glance." He smiled, albeit timidly, her way. His hand shot out, palm up, between them. "Just a whisper of your hair. And even then… I wanted- needed to see more of you. And you moved right into view so that I could."

Emma's lips turned up in a smile as she listened to him speak about that day. The stammer had begun to leave his voice, his words becoming stronger.

"I remember," she assured him with a nod. "It was very brief, that first encounter."

"Because you were so quick to close the door in my face," he reminded her, taking a step towards her.

Emma bit down on her lip softly. "Did I ever apologize to you for that?"

He was getting closer, his hand reaching out towards her as he came.

"You never apologized," Killian murmured, his eyes narrowing on her playfully.

Emma bit down harder on her lip this time as he took his place in front of her. His hand slipped around her waist and she let him pull her against him.

"You know that we are not alone, right?" she whispered up at him. "The movers are right outside. They're coming back in."

She wondered if he had even heard what she said. His eyes were running across her face again, his expression had grown somber and rather serious.

"You took my breath away that day, Emma," Killian told her softly. "You knocked me flat back against that wall and took every ounce of breath from me that day. All I wanted from that moment on was to know everything about you."

She didn't know why, but her heart began to pick up speed and her breathing became noticeably shallow. Emma licked at her lips, trying to keep her smile at a minimum. It would be easy to go back to that day in her mind. It would be easy to remember where her head and heart were at that day she saw him from across the hall and promptly shut the door in his face.

"Mm, maybe it wasn't so instantaneous, but you kind of knocked my breath away, too." Emma's smile was bright and full this time. "Eventually, at least."

Killian smiled again as his hand tightened for just a moment on her waist. His hand was slow to move then, slipping up her side before his fingers curved around her cheek.

Emma let her eyes slip shut at the feel on his strong touch. Now shouldn't have been the time for a touching moment between the two. She was in the middle of moving. But… she heard her own sigh of contentment escape from her lips.

"That day was only the beginning," Killian continued softly.

His voice and his touch had her heart starting all over again. She forced her eyes open so that she could see him again.

Emma was struck by the blue gaze that was already upon her.

"You changed me, Emma." Killian's fingers trailed along her cheekbone as he continued watching her. "You changed my life in ways that I never expected. In ways I never knew I truly wanted. That is, until I met you."

This time, his word made her catch her breath in her throat and stuck there. She wanted to know so many things. She wanted to ask so many things. But… she was struck there.

Emma let her hands reach out for him, grabbing and clutching on to his shirt with tight fist. She didn't know what this was, but it felt…

"It was always in the back of my mind, what real love was and what it meant." Killian's fingers slipped lower this time, over her neck. "I never searched for it. I never sought it out. And then… I met you and… you turned everything I thought I wanted in life upside-down. You… gave me… you. You gave me a sense of what… family was and what it meant beyond Liam. You gave me… love. Unconditional love at that. And unconditional love from you, Emma… I knew what it took for that to happen."

She felt the sob rising from deep inside. Emma opened her eyes again, blinking them over and over again to keep the tears from blinding her eyes. What was he doing to her all of a sudden? Why was he doing this to her all of a sudden?

"Killian, what…"

The sheen of tears didn't stop her from seeing the way he pulled his hand away or seeing how he began to lower himself down to the floor… onto one knee.

"Killian, what are you…"

Was he….

She hadn't expected this. She hadn't expected him to take her hand in his own, holding on tight. She hadn't expected….

Her right hand had been left free to come up and swipe away the tears freely falling now. He had spoken of the way that he had been changed by her and her love for him. She didn't know if there was really a true comparison. Because…. the gifts that he had bestowed on her included… her life again. He had given her life… after she thought life was over.

Emma's breath entered her body as a shudder…

"I never want to know what life is like without you in it," Killian continued, staring up at her from his kneeling position on the floor. "I never want to know what life is like without you and Henry being my family." His thumb ran over the back of her hand, which he held onto firmly. His other hand moved to the side pocket of his pants. "I never want to know a day without knowing your love."

Emma's eyes darted from his to the small box now in his hand. She watched as his head bowed down, coming in contact with only the dark sweeping hair swirling around his head.

"I love you, Emma Swan."

Hearts could burst from utter surprise and happiness, couldn't they?

Between his fingers, the box snapped open, revealing the sparkling diamond ring just sitting there.

Killian's gaze found hers, once again somber and… full of the love he spoke so eloquently of.

"Would you do me the honor, my love, of marrying me?"

And…

There it was. He wore his heart on his sleeve. He bared everything to her and… for her.

Two years. Two years. Yet, it felt like a lifetime worth of love.

She wanted it to be a lifetime of love.

Emma opened her mouth, her eyes blinking at him. Suddenly, she felt a calmness settle inside of her. It was simple, the answer. There was only one word she could possibly answer him.

"Yes." She felt every bit the mess, but the word escaped from her lips easily and with confidence.

"Yes?" Killian's eyebrow went up in what looked like surprise.

It was Emma's mouth that was gaped open, stunned by the turn of events. She bobbed her head in affirmation.

"Yes." She found her voice finally. "Yes. Yes. I will marry you, Killian."

"You said yes." The relief washed off of Killian is waves, his eyes closing for a moment.

It was then that Emma noticed the shakiness of her hand and the slight tremble of his.

"You said yes." His eyes opened again just as he removed his hand from hers. Turning the box around, he worked at removing the ring. The box dropped to the floor beside him carelessly as he reached for her hand again.

Feeling him slip the ring onto her finger made it all feel official.

"Oh my God, Killian!" It was only then that the sheer magnitude of the ring's beauty hit her.

"Something worthy of you, my love," Killian murmured, clasping her hand firmly. He was slow to stand back up, looking her in her eyes the entire time. "Emma." It was a quiet murmur that spoke volumes to what he was feeling at the moment- what they were both feeling. "I love you, Emma."

Never… It had never been like this before. Not before Killian. The truth of the matter was that… she never believed love could be as consuming as her love was with him.

"I love you, too, Killian." She slipped her hand out of his and opened her arms for him.

Moving slowly into her embrace, Killian wrapped his arms around her waist, lifting her off the floor.

Emma buried her face into the crook of his neck, closing her eyes and feeling as if she could stay that way forever.

The sound of the door opening reminded her immediately that… there were moving men right outside and moving her belonging out of her old apartment. She lifted her head to see….

She didn't know what was the most surprising: Henry, the video camera in his hand, or the sudden light shining in her face.

"Congratulation, Mom." He was practically beaming from behind that camera.

Killian was slow to let her feet reach the floor once again. He still held tight around her waist, keeping her close.

"Congratulations, Killian," Henry continued. "And don't worry. I got the whole thing."

Her son had been in on it, too. Of course he had. The amount of time it was taking for the moving men to make their way back inside made her wonder about them as well.

Emma bit down on her lip again as she slowly shook her head. "Come here."

It was with a laugh that Henry did just that, moving across the span of the hallway in a matter of seconds. The camera was lowered and she was swept up in a huge hug by her fifteen-year-old son that was as tall as her.

"I'm happy for you, Mom." Henry muttered it close to her ear, his hug becoming even tighter. "I'm happy for all of us."

Emma felt the sudden embrace of her husband-to-be bringing them all together. She felt the sob almost take over her at the same time.

Never had she let herself dream of all of this. Not before.

Not before Killian Jones had stepped into her life with all his cockiness and self-assuredness. Not before Killian had showed her that she was worthy of him, and herself and... so much more.

She felt his kiss on the top of her head and the way his hold tightened even more.

"Kid." Emma pressed Henry closer to her, closing her eyes. "I'm happy for all of us, too."


End file.
